The Silent Scream
by TheDeathChamber
Summary: Voldemort is never gentle in his punishments, but Severus is tired of fighting... and Dumbledore is the only thing that's keeping him from falling. No romance. Pure angst mostly.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All characters belong to J.K.Rowling.

Notes: Pure and undiluted Snape angst. Torture, child abuse and insinuated self harm. Thank you for reading, and please don't forget to review!

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Severus Snape lowered himself to his knees and bowed to the Dark Lord. His hair shielding his eyes while his mind worked furiously to keep the loathing at bay. He tried to quiet his breathing, eyes locked on the blood stained floor in front of Voldemort's seat. How he felt like laughing right in the wizard's face, seeing his red eyes widen in anger and humilliation as the potion he desired danced before his eyes. But he knew he could not, the potion was made and ready, a dangerous weapon. But Dumbledore had told him to deny it once more and see how he reacted, while he thought of some kind of disturbance to distract him or of some substitute for the real potion. Not a very smart plan, considering Voldemort's impatience.

'I will not tolerate one more failure Severus. I expect the potion at the apointed time, or you will suffer my extreme displeasure.'

His voice quieted to a whisper, but Severus knew what to expect. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands in his lap as the Cruciatus curse struck him. A thousand knives seemed to be etching words on his skin, while he burned in a wooden stake and his feet were stuck in frozen iron shoes. It stopped slowly, the pain lingering around him. He gulped and attempted another bow even in his seated position, though his eyes were still pointed at the floor. He heard a faint rustle of robes and a few light steps. A creaking door, silky whispers, creaking door.. cold sharp footsteps aproaching. He raised his head slightly, though it seemed to be weighed down by an indescribable sense of foreboding.

'Crucio.'

He sucked his breath in a hiss, not expecting the sudden assault. Though the pain was less intense he had to hold down his hand to stop it from twitching. He got to his feet, attempting a serene facade even as he felt his hands trembling. A soft blanket of pale golden hair met his eyes as he raised himself to his feet, and his disgust deepened mixed with anger.

'Lucius.' he acknowledged the man before him with a nod and took a step towards the door.

'Crucio.' he bared his teeth in anger even as his legs crumbled under him and he fell to the floor, spasms of leashed pain washing over him. As the first spell ended another one hit him and through the haze of pain he wondered dimly how anyone could think he was friends with the bastard.

'Damn you Severus. Do you never scream?'

Lucius asked quietly as he stared at the bundle of black robes on the floor. He had expected high pitched screams of pain, the shrieks proper of the tortured. His lip pulled back in a sneer as he remembered his _friend's _past. Yes, he remembered when the slimy git had confessed to his strong older protecter at Hogwarts how he was ill treated at home. He laughed evilly and hit the man lying on the floor with another curse. Perhaps some muggle torture would show him? He conjured a couple of knives and sent them whistling through the air to hit the writhing silent figure on the floor. A gasp escaped him, but nothing more. Even as the blades slit through his arms and chest, occasionaly leaving a thin scratch on his sunken face. Disgruntled, he vanished the knives and stepped foward.

'Damn you again...Well, perhaps you'll learn to scream some other time.'

A final cruciatus curse and Severus heard retreating footsteps as though behind a veil of blood and the creak of the closing door. He quickly got to his feet, swaying as he stood but strided away, not wanting some other Death Eater to take advantage of his weak position and have some fun on his own. He disapparated back to the Hogwarts apparating post and had to lean on the wall to keep himself standing. He wondered if he had any ribs broken for breathing seemed particularly painful. His eyes bored his surroundings in anger, but also a hint of satisfaction even as he limped towards the looming castle. He had not screamed, he had not given the bloody idiot that pleasure. But he should have known, for he had told him about his home once...he had thought he was his friend. He smirked grimly as he reached the cool stone stairs leading to the dungeons. He had been betrayed. He shook his pounding head and muttered the password, his words a hoarse rasp.

Gulping down the firewhisky straight from the bottle he crumbled onto the dark velvet green couch in front of the cold fireplace and closed his eyes in exhaustion. He dropped the bottle from trembling hands and opened his eyes abruptly. He heard the crash and saw the flying pieces of glass and the liquid pouring steadily onto the rug. A few embedded themselves into his leg, piercing through the flimsy robes. His head throbbed painfully as he raised his eyes to the wooden clock sitting on the fireplace, he jumped as he saw the time. Eight thirty, damn, and they had an Order meeting at nine. Sighing he forced himself to stand and made his way to the bathroom. Once there he rinsed his face, blood staining the water that trickled down his face. His darting black eyes took in his sunken cheeks, protruding cheek bones painfully sharp and white agaisnt the black smudges under his eyes. He punched the mirror out of sheer anger, achieving nothing but one more pain to add to his aching body.

Straightening his robes over his pale frame his fingers registered a few soaked parts, but his mind was too tired to work it out. Grabbing a handful of floopowder from a black vase he threw it into the fire and flooed himself to Headquarters.

Molly Weasley started as a black figure emerged from the fire, revealing a sallow hooked nosed face as Severus Snape stepped out of the fireplace. She frowned slightly in concern as the man passed without a greeting, and she noticed there seemed to be some maroon patches on his chest. She hurried before him and passed into the meeting room straight to Dumbledore. The man was so old, and so busy, and yet he never seemed to tire. Still she had volunteered to take special notice of anything concerning Professor Snape in case the old wizard missed something, though she doubted that would ever happen. Still she felt rather more helpful as she told him about the young man's strange and worrying appearance. Dumbledore nodded with a slight twitch of his eyebrows and motioned for her to sit down.

'Good evening Severus.'

He stated calmly as the man entered the room. His eyes travelled over the man he considered as a son and it did not pass at unwares the seeping blood on his chest and the way his eyes were darting nervously around the room, though his face was unreadable to those who did not know him. As most people didn't.

Severus walked in without a greeting, nodding slightly to Dumbledore and took a seat. Trying to mask his ragged breathing and mantaining his usual scowl. He heard voices around him as the meeting began, up and down, low and loud... yet he was too exhausted and painful to take them in. He was shaken out of his dazed state as Dumbledore peered at him concernadly over his half moon glasses and Lupin looked at him questioningly. He shook his head ignoring the pounding blood in his ears and frowned angry with himself.

'Excuse me?'

'I was asking what was Voldemort's reaction when you did not present the potion he ordered?'

Snape's frown deepened. Dumbledore had finished filling the rest of the Order in on tonight's mission. Which meant he was probably going to be questioned now. Not that there was much to say, what was he supposed to tell them? That Voldemort and Malfoy had tortured him? Obviously the Headmaster would not let him return after that. Really, the old man was a fool. Everytime he met with the Dark Lord he was subject to at least one Cruciatus spell. A way to prove his servant's loyalty he supposed. And it was certainly not the first time he was tortured. But the old wizard was not to know. Nor anyone at any account.

'He was displeased naturally.'

He replied evasively. Managing to glare at Lupin through his tired eyelids which seemed to have intentions of closing on their own. Lupin shifted in his seat uncomfortably and glanced at Albus as though for permission.

'Well, yes. But what did he do? And say?'

Severus felt his left hand which had been lying on his lap twitch suddenly. The corner of his mouth drooped in a grimace and he incospiciously (he hoped) held it with his other hand. Probably an effect of the torture. Screaming was an outlet for the pain, it postponed the death or loss of mental sanity of the victim. Of course that was if the torture had some objetive other than pain and the simple enjoyment of the torturer, as his had been. Still he had a distinct feeling not allowing himself to scream made the cruciatus curse even more powerful.

'He said he expected the potion at the appointed time, which is next week. As for what he did or said apart from that is irrelevant and none of your business really.'

His voice which had started as silky whisper rather turned into an angry snap. He forced his face to smirk and then resume it's usual calm facade. He wasn't to give himself away. Still he was angered by the man's questions and he only desired to leave to Hogwarts and lock himself in the dungeons with a bottle of firewhisky mixed with dreamless sleep potion to ease the pain and lead him gently to forgetfullness.

Lupin nodded though he wasn't content with the answer. It was obvious Snape was hiding something, though he wasn't going to pursue the subject. Dumbledore had silenced him with a look, his eyes conveying his thoughts. Dumbledore himself was not at all happy with Severus' response and he was worried he had made a mistake in sending the young wizard to Voldemort without the potion. Tom's displeasure surely meant nothing good and seeing as Snape did not seem keen to make clear what the dark wizard had actually done, he deemed it was not pleasant at all.

The meeting continued with plans for the substitution of the potion and ways to thwart the Dark Lord's plans. But Severus was barely listening, he was just starting at the air in front of him. Fighting the spams of pain that crossed him every while and the incontrolable twitching of his hand. He was relieved when the reunion finally started to dissapate and without a goodbye hurried to leave through the fireplace and straight to his private quarters. He felt as though he was being lashed in the kidneys, as though his lungs were being continuously pierced by a paper hole puncher, his heart squeezed by frozen iron hands and his head beaten by a huge hammer.

His body collapsed near the chair, not managing to even grasp the couch. He crumbled on the floor, and lay, waves of pain washing over him. It seemed hours before he could force himself to crawl onto the chair. Once there he rested his head on his knees and without noticing sleep crept over like a dark blanket of evil memories.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Same as always.

Dumbledore took leave of the Order members as quickly as possible. He had a feeling Severus was not well at all. They way he had kept unnaturally quiet all through the meeting was already highly suspicious, adding the blood on his robes and the twitching and shaking he was _sure _the boy was not as whole as he appeared. The floo powder carried him back to Hogwarts in an instant and he made his way swiftly from his office to the dungeons. Feeling the air getting chillier with every step he took. He had offered Severus quarters elsewhere, as to not have him exposed to the constant cold of the lower parts of the castle. But the man had always refused, claiming he was not bothered by it. Though Dumbledore had an idea that he preferred the dungeons more as a mean of isolation from everyone else more than other reasons.

He knocked softly and was met by no response. Unstymied he knocked more forcefully but the stiffling silence prevaled. Perhaps the boy was already sleeping? He must have been tired after all his meetings of the night. Still slightly worried he decided he would see him at breakfast tomorrow morning and let him sleep in peace. Though rather hesistant he turned back to his office.

Severus awoke suddenly from a few hours of fretful nightmares. Feeling far from rested he summoned enough energy to fetch the alcohol he had been intending to drink before falling asleep. He took a deep gulp and put it down. He ached all over. Shaking slightly he forced himself to stand and glanced at the clock, he was amazed to discover he had managed to sleep seven hours in one go. He was usually woken several times in the night from the dark memories that purged his dreams. It must have been the exhaustion, he thought, even though that didn't seem to have faded at all. As he ordered his feet to keep moving towards the bathroom his legs appeared to be made of some squiggly material that did not want to hold him up. But he had to clean himself up before going to the Great Hall. Hunger was not a feeling he usually had but he knew Dumbledore would argue if he did not at least make his appearance at lunch times every two days. Not that he ate much anyways.

Disentangling himself of his robes he washed the blood from his chest with a wet cloth. The gashes were long but shallow and the bleeding of most had been stemmed yesterday by time. His arms were plagued by new cuts and he smirked as they crossed over the old ones he had done himself over the years. Carefully donning clean robes he walked slowly out of his room and up the stairs, leaning agaisnt the wall for support. When he finally reached the Great Hall almost everyone was seated and he was dismayed to see Dumbledore had saved him a seat next to him instead of leaving him to sit alone in his usual corner. He unwillingly sat down gingerly, trying not to wince as his cracked ribs pained him.

'Severus dear boy. How're you this morning? I passed by your quarters last night but you appeared to be asleep-'

Dumbledore smiled at him kindly, his twinkling blue eyes inspecting him keenly.

'Fine, thank you Headmaster.'

He replied dully and turned to stare at his plate to avoid further conversation with the old man. He bared his teeth in disgust at the porridge awaiting him and did not bother to pick the spoon up. His hand reached for the tea cup and he took a sip, it was comfortably warm. He took a few more sips and set it down as his hands began trembling once more. It was harder to pretend to eat while sitting right next to the Headmaster. Yet he could not bring himself to pick up the spoon and enter that sloppy mixture of ingredients into his mouth. He decided to simply leave the table and head off to prepare the lesson for today.

'Severus, you have eaten nothing!'

The old man cried out when Snape was getting up. He grasped the man's wrist which caused him to gasp and yank it out of the Headmaster's hold in pain. Dumbledore eyed him warily, a slight frown between his bushy eyebrows. Severus pursed his lips in anger and stole off from the questioning stares of the staff. He knew Albus had meant no harm but he had unknowingly pressed his hand over a painful cut. Stil he was mostly angry at himself for crying out in that way. How weak was he? He could bear hours of torture but not a simple touch on a shallow cut. He shook his head and wearily prepared himself for the long day that awaited him.

'P-professor Snape, sir?

Snape raised his eyes from the pile of essays just handed in a glared at the small hufflepuff who was standing at the door, as though frightened to come any closer.

'What do you want?'

He asked rather rudely and hoping the boy would leave soon and before he had to give him a detention. A snarl threatened to issue from his mouth as he watched the boy shifting uncomfortably.

'Well what is it boy!?'

He snapped impatiently after a few seconds in which the boy still hadn't summoned up enough courage to speak.

'J-just that Professor Dumbledore asked me on my way h-here to convey a message to y-you, sir.'

A loud gulp was heard through the room as the boy finished talking. Snape raised an eyebrow and shook his head slightly urging the boy to continue.

'He said he would like for you to join him for dinner.'

The words stumbled out in a rush as though the second year were speaking as quick as he could, eager to leave the presence of the frightening Potions Master. Indeed his cowardice took the best of him for without waiting for a response he was gone, leaving the door wide open in his flight.

Severus wrinkled his face in disgust and closed the door with a wave of his wand. He had been planning a peaceful night, his only company some more alcohol. And now Dumbledore had to come and ruin his plans. And what was worse, he was sure what the wizard wanted. Probably to question his queer behaviour of this morning and an answer as to why he hadn't gone to lunch either. Damn.

He set the papers on a corner of his desk and got up unsteadily, the room blackening as he stood and took a few uncertain steps. His attempt to take a deep breath to clear his dizziness was met with a sharp pain in his chest as his ribs moved around. Spots dancing still before his eyes he proceded to the Great Hall, even though exhaustion was the nearest term to describe what he was feeling.

'Severus! Come sit beside me.'

The old man greeted cheerfully as Snape finally got to the Great Hall, feeling rather out of breath. He took the seat Dumbledore was pointing at with a quick nod and stared at his food in disgust. A nice looking meat pie was on his plate, but despite it's savoury apperance it only served to bring a wave of nausea. Pulling away from his plate he turned to face Dumbledore, trying to keep his face as expressionless as possible. His mind working for a simple apology that would allow him to leave the table quickly and return to the dungeons.

'I apologize for my rude behaviour of this morning Headmaster.'

He stated dully, his voice short above a whisper, not wanting to be overheard by any of the staff. Dumbledore gave him a quick smile but his eyes seemed questioning, as though wondering why he was apologizing at all.

'Ah, there is no need for it dear boy. It is I who was seeking your pardon. I am truly sorry if I hurt you this morning but I really had no idea of the extent of your injuries.'


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Same as before.

Snape's eyes widened in shock and his face blanched. So he _had _noticed he thought in horror. The pounding in his head resuming he tried to regain his usual serene facade. He attempted to adopt a tone of contempt and disdain, pretending he did not know what the man was talking about, though he was sure he would not fool Dumbledore, after all the man was a legilemens himself.

'Injuries? What ever are you talking about Headmaster?'

He whispered softly, his darting black eyes registering the fact that most of the staff had stopped eating to stare at them. For Dumbledore had not bothered to keep his voice down.

'Severus. It was not lost on me that you were seemingly punished yesterday by Voldemort or some Death Eater and though you attempt to hide it, I would ask you to at least let Madam Pomfrey look you over.'

Snape stared at the Headmaster in disbelief and anger, but embarrasment was also present in his mixture of emotions in the form of yet another drainage of color from his face. Dumbledore frowned slightly at Severus' starch white face and the way his eyes were darting around madly, a vein pulsing rapidly in his jaw. Perhaps he _should _have let the talk for later.

'Headmaster. There are no injuries to be accounted for, but if there were any..I hardly deem this to be the appropiate time to discuss them.'

He snarled as silently as he could, a mad urge to curse the whole staff into oblivion almost overpowering him. His anger getting the most of him he stood up, the chair clattering loudly behind him. Angered and embarrassed by the spectacle he was creating he strided off, ignoring the weakness in his legs and the dancing spots in his eyes. When he had left the Great Hall he felt a hand settling on his shoulder and instantly turned around, reaching for his wand. He took his hand from his pocket when he saw it was no one but Dumbledore, who however seemed quite alarmed by his reaction. Still it was not surprising, he lived on constant alert...since he was five.

'Will you accompany to my office?'

The old wizard voiced quietly and staring at him kindly. Snape licked his dry lips in thought and nodded after a few seconds. The made their way silently up to the gargoyles and up the stair until they reached the circular room. The portraits all appeared to be asleep. Dumbledore motioned for him to sit down on a comfortable looking blue chair in front of his desk and he himself took a seat opposite.

'Now we are alone Severus. The proper time?'

He asked blandly, his eyes still annoyingly kind. Snape gritted his teeth in frustration, he had not wanted Albus to know about this. The embarrasment was complete. Simply add Potter and Mcgonagoll to the conversation and he might as well complete his life-long plans of dissappearing from the earth. He did not respond but stared at the silver plume on the desk.

'Tell me what Voldemort did to you Severus.'

The voice was pleasant and trustful, yet slightly commanding. Dumbledore watched the young man intently, storing in his mind the fact that he had not eaten at all today.

'I assume you can imagine Professor Dumbledore.'

He replied finally, chancing a glance at the old man. Who was looking at him, concern mirrored in those twinkling blue eyes.

'May I see them?'

'What?'

'The injuries dear boy. For it it obvious I must have accidentally made contact with at least one wound this morning. And I suppose there are more.'

'I hardly believe it is necessary...'

'Please Severus. As you do not wish to visit Poppy I will do my best to aleviate your pains myself. Will you do me the discourtesy of denying me?'

Severus swallowed his anger and embarrasment and forced himself to stand. He quietly took his robes off leaving his chest and arms at view and stared at the floor. Dumbledore swiftly lifted himself to his feet, a frown forming as he looked at the boy's chest and arms, all full of cuts. There were also a few bruises and what seemed to be two broken ribs. Ah, Severus was such a brave man. He was so proud of him. Pointing his wand at the cuts he saw the skin mending, blood clearing. The ribs went next, an involuntary sigh escaping the young man as the ribs fused back together.

Dumbledore walked back to his seat and wrote a few notes while Severus robed himself once more, still avoiding his gaze. He smiled once more, though the twinkle in his eyes was rather gone after having seen what they had done to him. He suddenly reached for Severus' hand which was laying on the desk and squeezed it slightly. Snape raised his eyes, rather wide. No one had ever shown such sign of affection for him. Rather confused he slowly squeezed back in return, managing a faint smile.

Suddenly a burning pain shot through his arm, his branded skin flaring. He yanked his arm back from the Headmaster's grasp and without further thought ran to the door and hurried down the stairs. Soon he was out down the path leading to Hogsmeade. Ignoring exhaustion he rushed to the gate and flinging it open stepped outside, apparating seconds later.

He apparated straight to Voldemort. Raising his eyes slowly and glancing behind his curtain of greasy black hair he saw the pale, snake like face of the Dark Lord. He instantly went into a deep bow.

'My Lord.'

He mumbled softly, wondering what he could want and wishing he was back at Hogwarts. Chancing another peek he saw Voldemort was no longer sitting in his throne like chair but standing a few feet away from him, red eyes glingting maliciously. Snape lowered his eyes again and stood waiting with baited breath.

'Well Severus you might be wondering why I have called you.'

The dark wizard stated, his voice a poisonous oil.

'I have no real obligation to give you any excuses but I will satisfy your curiosity for once.'

He paused slightly and Snape felt the tips of his spidery fingers brushing his robes as the man circled him. He had to fight a shiver.

'I heard from certain sources that you made rather good sport' the man laughed softly '...However, arrogance is not a trait I appreciate when it is a rebellion agaisnt my order. Perhaps I will be obligued to teach you some humility?'

Snape swallowed.

_'Crucio.'_

He swayed on the spot as the spell hit him, every muscle in his body seeming to be stretched to the point of breaking. He fell on the floor.

'Humility Severus.'

The man said mockingly before throwing him across the room with a simple sharp jab of his wand. Severus hit the wall and felt the blood begining to rush foward from the crushed shoulder. Air did not seem to be reaching his lungs and he gaped and tried to swallow the oxigen. But he was not given much time to recuperate, as he slid to the floor another cruciatus spell hit him. A thousand poisonous thorns pierced him while he hung on a thick chain by the neck. He fell to the floor and heard dimly Voldemort's cackle as he was thrown across the room again. This time face foward so that his lip was torn and his nose broke with an audible crack, as did at least two of his ribs.

As he fell on his back the air was knocked out of him. There was a roaring screaming in his ears though he was sure his mouth was still shut, even if the pain of his teeth grinding one agaisnt the other was not noticeable compared to all the rest of the aches of his body.

'You refuse yet again. I warn you, we will not leave until the lesson is taught.'

Severus heard the voice through the ocean of blood he seemed to be drowning in. He lay on the floor in a tangle of robes as yet another spell hit him, making him twitch uncontrollably. He had no clear idea of how many more times he hit the wall, until, feeling he could survive no longer a final cruciatus was cast upon him. His body was feeling as though a stampede of elefants were going over him, and surely his blood had been replaced by lava, even if he was lying on a sheet of ice and it was raining daggers.

He couldn't help but let a whimper escape him, followed by a muffled sob of pain. He opened his eyes blearely and saw Voldemort standing over him. His sharp teeth visible in his evil grin as his eyes glowed with the red light of malice. This time when the Dark Lord raised his wand he was thrown to the door, which burst open and he landed in a heap on the corridor.

'It seems we have made progress. You are dismissed.'

The words echoed in his head from far away but he lay still his eyes too aching to open them. It was at least an hour before he could get himself to apparate back to the Hogwarts apparating post in Hogsmeade. His breath was ragged and gurgling, and as he tried to stand, supporting himself on trembling arms a racking cough took over him. He shook and his arms gave up on trying to stand as he coughed blood. Thin but firm and strong hands suddenly descended on his shoulders, helping him to his feet. Regardless of the pain he was in he turned to face his opponent with a whirl of robes and his wand already ready to attack...Dumbledore.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Same as time before last

By the way thanks for the wonderful reviews! I loved them.

Dumbledore stared at the man before him. Snape was standing unsteadily, gaping as he tried to breath through the torrent of blood pouring from his nose into his mouth. He was swaying, eyes rolling even as he tried to focus on the old man who was trying to attack him. He fell a moment later, crumbling to the floor like a tower of hard rock suddenly blasted apart.

Dumbledore strided foward swiftly, picking up the man from the floor. His usually twinkling blue eyes a well of unshed tears as he noticed with horror the weightlessness of the man in his arms and the blood issuing forth without restraint. He hurried towards the castle, grateful of the cover of the night. . As he reached the Hospital Wing, blood was staining his robes a darker purple. Color seeming to transfer from Severus to his clothes, leaving the young man more white than usual. This time a deathly white.

'Poppy!'

He called urgently, setting Severus carefully on a bed. He had called loudly, still his voice was serene and calm. As one who is simply accompanying one's friend to a nightime stroll. But in truth his soul was weighted down by worry. Madam Pomfrey came into view pulling a night robe over her flowery sleeping gown. There was a frown on her face as she had been roused from sleep. But as her eyes travelled over Dumbledore's dirtied robes and settled on the shaking form of the Potions Master it was replaced by widened eyes in shock and she took a few hesitant steps foward.

'What happened Albus?'

She whispered softly, the sound barely perturbing the stiffling silence of the empty Hospital Wing. Dumbledore shook his head wearily and pointed at Snape. Guilt and dread at the thought of losing Severus seeming to choke him, like a thick rope around his neck. Poppy took out her wand, eyes still widened, and lighted the gloomy room. She began the inspection at the feet, as usual. And spoke aloud more for Albus' sake than herself's. She knew the old Headmaster would want to know exactly what was wrong with the man, for though to most the Potions Master was not held in high esteem it was well known, at least among the staff, that he cared for the man dearly.

'Sprained ankle, cuts and bruises..' she began writing quickly in a small notebook to keep track, for it was obvious there were a great extent of injuries.

'Broken wrist, three cracked ribs one piercing the left lung, crushed homoplate ...'

Dumbledore marvelled at the strength of Severus, how he had held the wand with a broken wrist was a mystery to him.

'Split lip, broken nose...'

The wand paused over Snape's eyes, the eyelids were closed but his pupils were rolling around the sockets wildly.

'Lack of sleep. And though that is visible to the plain eye, severe malnutrition. Exhaustion due to both.'

Madam Pomfrey let her arm go down, still holding her wand and stared at the Headmaster, brows furrowed. She did not like the Potions Master very much and she avoided seeing him at all costs, but she could not believe Dumbledore had let Professor Snape destroy himself in such way. For it was clear from his sunken cheeks and protruding bones in all his body that he had not eaten in days, and properly not in months. And about the injuries? Now she was curious about those, no fall could lead to the way he was in. It seemed to her more like the results of...torture. Dumbledore simply shook shook his head, still unable to talk. She pursed her lips but proceded to treat her patient.

Brandishing her wand once more she mended the sprain easily, along with the broken wrist,shoulder and nose.

'No wonder his bones break so easily, with nothing more than skin to protect them...'

She muttered as she continued to the ribs. The went back together with a satisfying click. The muscles between the ribs were bruised and torn but she wanted to fix the lung first. For his rattling breath only served to indicate that blood was starting to soak the organ. Pointing her wand at the wound she began making slow circles, knowing underneath the pale skin and behind the ribcage the small veins and ripped membrane were fusing back together. After a few tense moments she was done and heard and audible sigh of relief escape the old man hovering behind her, who had, it appeared, been following her every movement.

'Now I'll have to wake him up for him to expel the blood in his lung Headmaster.'

She stated, the coldness she had tried to set agaisnt him in defence of her newest patient withering away as she looked into his tired eyes.

'Yes, go ahead dear. Though you better be quick about it.'

Dumbledore settled on the bed's other side and took Severus' icy cold hand. He had managed to break through a barrier that afternoon with that hand squeeze, but he had a feeling Voldemort had taken all progress away. When Severus woke up he would probably have set iron walls around himself once more, and the melting of that metal he had managed in all those years would be lost.

'Enervate.'

Rang through the room and Madam Pomfrey quickly reached for a metal tray. Severus opened his eyes abruptly, making the woman gasp. His darting black eyes filled with unnatural fear danced around the room to finally land on Dumbledore. Drawing in breath in surprise made him gag and a become overpowered by piercing cough spell. Blood escaped his mouth as he shook with the effort of struggling to stop coughing, Poppy patted his shoulder tenderly knowing it would hurt more if he was fighting agaisnt it. But only made him flinch and attempt to back away from her. A trickle of blood sliding down his jaw as he tried to stand up and leave. Dumbledore took action at the woman's wordless gaping, and with a silent plead for forgiveness he stupefied Severus.

'Oh my.'

The nurse said finally after laying Snape back on the bed. Dumbledore just sighed in grief and went back to sitting beside the man, picking up the bony hand once more. His eyes locked on the troubled face of his once student. His breathing was still rather shallow, raising his thin chest up and down. He glanced at Poppy as the woman made a small noise, as though just about to speak but thinking better of it.

'What is it Poppy?'

She pursed her lips in a stab of decisiveness, the healer in her taking over.

'It's just that- Well, I would recommend feeding via intravenosa for a few days. Professor Snape is in desperate need of some weight gain..but I don't think he shall be very amused by it.'

The old man nodded in agreement, no Severus would not appreciate it. But just feeling his hand made him decided to allow it, for it felt like holding a skeleton. Madam Pomfrey reached for her wand and grasped Snape's arm firmly, she jabbed it at the crook of the arm and a thin cord issued from her wand. It pierced his rather traslucent skin and connected with the painfully visible bluish vein, she pulled her wand back leading the tube to a metal stick beside the bed where a bag of glucose appeared. She put her wand away back in her pocket and watched in pity as the nutritients the young man was in desperate need of made their way silently inside the invisible cord and into his blood. Muggles used similar devices, though they were rather more painful and stranger.

'Poppy dear go to bed already. I'll stay with Severus.'

Madam Pomfrey nodded solemly and returned back to her quarters. Albus sighed once more in deeper regret and pity. Conjuring a wet cloth he wiped the blood from Severus' face and then sat back down, grasping his hand and holding it gently.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Is this necessary?

Well I hope you like this chapter. At first I wasn't very content with it but I rather like the end. Anyways, keep reviewing please!

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Snape awoke suddenly, his breath catching in his chest as the Dark Lord's red eyes pierced through the gloom. Like glowing embers in the cold fireplace, he yanked his hand away from the restraining rope held around his wrist and reached for his wand only to discover he was tied to a tombstone and a snake was biting him, it's painfully sharp fangs embedded in his flesh.

_'Severus. Severus.'_

A gentle voice called softly across the graveyard, hardly audible above the downpour of rain. He blinked the drops out of his eyes, but when he opened them again saw only shining zaphires staring at him in concern.

'Professor Dumbledore.'

He managed to gasp as memories flashed through his mind. He had been discovered. Black eyes roved around to confirm his suspicions that he was in the Hospital Wing. He lowered his eyes in shame and humilliation, attempting a frown but finding he was too exhausted to keep faking. An alien throbbing in his arm made him divert his eyes towards his limb and a snarl formed in his lips as he saw the thin cord. His eyes followed it up and saw the half empty plastic bag. He yanked the thing out of his arm fiercely.

'Severus! Don't do that. It's for your own good.'

Dumbledore was struggling to remain in control of his emotions, his face as sober as Severus' had been moments before.

'I will not be fed like a wounded animal Headmaster.'

Severus replied coldly. Albus sighed in defeat. Seeing the all too familiar iron doors once more closed to any contact, now adorned with thick iron chains bound by a large lock. He rubbed his tempels in frustration and pain.

'Severus. You have not been eating properly. In months it seems and I only regret not having noticed before. Now, you are weakened by this and your insomnia and, since you are unable to nourish yourself sufficiently quickly as needed we have been forced to administer it in this way.'

He gazed at the man as he brought himself up to a sitting position, a remarkably cold expression on his face. There was pain in his eyes even as they attempted to freeze him. Snape bared his teeth and threw the tube on the floor, all the time staring intensely at Dumbledore. He had tried to force himself not to care for the man, not to love him as the father he never had. For always something seemed to drive him away from the people he had cared for. Not that he had cared for many. But now...now Dumbledore had seen his weakness. And all those who saw one's weakness were a threat. Possible traitors. And Albus had already seen him once, bare of every shield he set before him. But at that time he had not really cared for the old man, when he had returned to the Light after hiding in the Darkness. It would not do to hand one's enemies a list of one's fears and weakness. He would once more have to distance himself, for he would not suffer to be betrayed once more. Anyways, he was not worthy of the man's love.

Dumbledore could almost see the iron doors rattling for a moment, as though wishing to open. Only to bang shut with a clang. He sighed once more and banished the ruined feeding device, knowing the only way he would get Severus to put it on once more would be stunning or drugging him. Something he most certainly was not about to do.

'Well...you had better keep resting.'

Snape blinked, he was dying inside. Those loving eyes, full of pain. He was drowning in the blue ocean. His lips pulled into a tight line, and he did not answer, for he felt that if he opened his mouth a terrible wail would escape him. He was angry at himself too, for letting himself fall like that. He was not destined to be loved, cared for, nor to care for anyone. And now Dumbledore was just hurting him more. He would have preffered to go back to Voldemort than to keep looking at those haunting blue eyes. He could not remain here. He was cured and well. Better retreat as soon as possible behind his fortress, locked forever till he was granted enough mercy to depart from the world.

He swung his legs from the bed and forced himself to stand, though he was still in pain and the exhaustion was not completely lost. Before Albus could grab him he had rushed to the door, his head was spinning but the clenching sensation in his heart was less bearable than the unsteady state.

'I would prefer to sleep in my own quarters.'

He declared in a tired whisper. Dumbledore watched him with a frown, and sat unmoving. For he knew the young man would not get very far before he collapsed. Swinging the door open with effort he stepped outside, his eyesight dimming and breath coming short. He fainted.

Madam Pomfrey came in as she heard the noise of someone falling. The Hospital Wing had special wards all around to alert her if any patient was leaving without her permission. She should have supposed something like that would happen. Snape had been in her care few times, though she had a feeling he had needed it more, but everytime there was trouble. Always the same reticence at being taken care of.

Dumbledore once more took the man in his arms and set him back on the bed. He pushed a strand of greasy black hair tenderly and again made himself comfortable beside the bed.

'Always the same. Will he ever accept treatment without complaint?'

She muttered angrily and her scowl deepened as she noticed the clever device was gone. Poppy glared at Dumbledore, knowing it had had to be him who had banished it, for Severus' wand was in his keeping.

'I would like to know the answer as much as yourself Poppy.'

Albus whispered softly, more to himself than to the healer. Shaking his head and realising he was being he rude he turned to face her.

'He took it off. You know how stubborn he is. I do not want him to be suffering.'

He confessed as he noticed where her eyes were lingering.

'You shouldn't have. He fainted didn't he? Of course he did. Hasn't eaten in days. He'll get himself killed.'

She muttered angrily and strode foward. Her wand pointed at the man she jabbed it at the crook of the arm once more, though she did not bother to set up all the parafernalia. And contented herself with letting the river of liquid issue from her wand directly into his veins. It was safer this way, slower, but at least he would not be able to stop it. His body seemed to pull it from her by itself, it's crave for survival stronger than the one his mind had. Albus puller her wand away and she frowned at him in surprise, a questioning glance. But he only shook his head and pointed at Severus who was stirring. The frown in his face seeming accusing, as though he knew what they were doing. He woke up abruptly and grimaced as he saw Pomfrey standing over him. It seemed he would have to stay. He saw her wand dripping the transperant liquid he had seen in the bag before and the lines around his mouth tightened.

'There is not need for this Pomfrey. In fact, I refuse it. And may I remind you an adult patient has complete authority over the treatment he wants to receive? Touch me again and I will personally make sure you are led to trial.'

The woman's eyes opened wide in shock, but after a few seconds she assumed an annoying stance. Pursing her lips, anger and contempt clearly visible in her eyes.

'Fine. Please leave then.'

He raised an eyebrow then swallowed. Glaring at her. The interfering woman! he thought noticing how she was glancing at Dumbledore a smile playing on her lips. He grit his teeth, sucking in his cheeks in thought. He was startled at the cry issuing from Pomfrey and the alarmed look of Albus' face. He snarled.

'I'm afraid that decision lies upon the school's Headmaster.' He glanced at Dumbledore questioningly, an eyebrow raised.

'Please leave us Poppy. I wish to discuss this with Severus alone.'

She left sputtering like an angry goose. Making Severus smirk at his small victory.

'What would happen if I were to allow her to force you away?'

'I would struggle to my feet and crawl to the dungeons if need. But I will not be force fed in this way.'

'You're ill Severus. Nobody likes it but you must stop avoiding things like that. Pretending you can send them away by shutting yourself in and scowling at the unjust world.'

Snape gasped. Dumbledore managed a small smile to himself, even if it was bitter. Severus had been treated to badly all his life, he hated to treat him like that. But sometimes people who had been subject to pain and harsh treatment only responded when they we adressed likewise. Still, he had breached the wall. Broken the chains, even if it were with burning fire.

'Avoiding things?'

His voice a deadly whisper. But it was always said that those who played with fire got burned.

'If I am such a coward I will simply go back to Voldemort, perhaps he will succeed in ending my cursed and worthless existance one and for all.'

Dumbledore closed his eyes in pain, Severus' words a deadly poison he had been brewing for himself for years. He remembered with grief how he failed to notice all the things amiss in the pale greasy haired boy, till he had ended in his office like one of the haunted. And still he had failed him again. Snape licked his lips, savouring his words. Caring no longer for cover, for hiding those suicidal thoughts always hanging on the edge of his mind. Perhaps this was the time to give in to his long desire. No. He closed his mouth with a sigh, he was not worthy of such grace.

'Forgive me Headmaster.'

'I love you Severus. I will not let you die.'

Severus' eyes darkened.

'You do not. For you continue to deny me what I have been wishing for all my damned life. I will add you to the list of those who consider my existance too important for their own matters and my life too trivial to care to notice it is nothing but a well of misery.'

His voice had begun a shaking whisper to end as a snarl, tears threatening to spill as his self controll slipped past him like water through cupped fingers.

'I will not allow you to die because I believe you deserve a chance to know happiness dear boy. Do you not see? I fight for all those who deserve to live! To know the real pleasure of life. You still have a chance Severus, to enjoy the life that has been denied to you.'


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: ...You know.

Note: Well thanks once again for the reviews- Anyways, this story supposed a bit of a challenge. I was at loss of what to write a few times. In the end I achieved what I catalogue as good intense, dramatic conversation. Hope you enjoy it and ...keep reviewing! ;)

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_'I will not allow you to die because I believe you deserve a chance to know happiness dear boy. Do you not see? I fight for all those who deserve to live! To know the real pleasure of life. You still have a chance Severus, to enjoy the life that has been denied to you.'_

Severus stared at Dumbledore, a small rather incoherent smile of incredulance coming to his lips. It died swiftly as he shook his head, blood pounding loudly in his ears.

'Then you fight for others. I do not deserve the chance you speak of...nor death. Though I long for it. I know it is impossible.'

As Dumbledore opened his mouth to reply, Snape shook his head again. He felt a sharp pain in his chest, as though his heart were being squeezed. He forced himself to go on.

'I do not consider _happiness._' as the word passed through his lips he savoured, for he rarely used it. 'I exist only because others will not end my damned existance and I am not worthy of killing myself.' His self disgust made his icy glare melt, tears springing to his eyes, though he was unaware of them as he spoke with the passion of a dying man making his last will. 'As I was not worthy of taking those lives I did, in a fool's attempt at gaining one of my own. Even now I stand by yours side, in weak hope-' he paused suddenly, ' No, not hope. For I do not believe in hope. Say rather a weak stab at mending the ills I have done. But no spell will reawaken the dead, nor will anything take away the mistakes and let me start anew. I am cursed and wish only to die. And yet I wish to live, if only to suffer some more. How can you love me Albus? For I hate myself.

Albus gazed at the man dazedly, even as the black eyes bored into his own. A strange weariness seeming to descend upon him like a blanket, making his bones feel heavy and his breathing troubled. A small part of him wished he had not spoken, that he had let Snape be. But seeing the tears replacing the usual smirk or scowl drowned that feeling, for that more than anything served for him to see how the Potions Master was feeling in truth. He had always suspected Severus thoughts were something like that, a great dose of guilt, self-hate implanted by his family and reinforced at school, solitude...Still, hearing the words from his own lips had been like swallowing goblets of burning and icy poison. Making him want to double up in pain, even the ache was in his heart not in his body.

'I love you. Because I see a man who has seen the error of his ways. Who came to me seeking pardon, who fights and struggles to repair the world. '

'Only because he helped ruin it first.'

Snape mumbled and then sighed. Fighting the tears threatening to spill.

'You made a dreadful mistake Severus. There is no real excuse, but you were confused. Befuddled by the hate you had welled inside you.'

Dumbledore's gaze was settled unfalteringly on the pale man lying on the bed, the man he had learned to love as a son. He had never experienced body torture, but this pain in his heart and soul were more exquisiste than any his body could have achieved. How to repair a shattered soul inside a broken body belonging to a miserable existance? He had no clear idea, but he could not let the pieces be swept aside by despair, time leading them away into oblivion. No, there were still possibilities of reuniting the shards, of putting together a life.

'But I deserved it. I hated it, but I deserved it.'

Severus responded in a monotone, appearing to be reading the lines from a book. Dumbledore shook his head in pity and guilt. All those years the poor boy had been abused at home and never had he uttered a word, and everyone had failed to notice. Even now he still flinched from any touch. And still he hid, he was positive that if he had not found him at the apparating post he would have waited and crawled back to the castle. Now with those biting words he had managed to melt the doors before him, but the sight revealed had not been pleasant. There were fences of sharp spears and the whole place was naught but a graveyard where the most predominating object was his own tombstone, declaring the death of a small five year old. He felt sick, nauseated with the overwhelming whirlwind of emotions cursing through him.

'You most certainly did not.'

He said finally, taking the hand lying on the cover and was twitching. Snape pulled away and set it further from him, a far away look in his eyes.

'Severus?'

Dumbledore asked in concern, as he watched the young man staring into space. His expression unreadable, but his white knuckles as his hands curled into fists betraying some strong emotion was going through him. Snape blinked and took a few steady breaths.

'No. No. No. I did not deserve it. But I'm not worthy of your touch either Headmaster. I am well and will recuperate soon, ready to continue in your service. You need not worry yourself further.'

He motioned to the door with a curt nod, feeling faint and wishing more than ever that Voldemort had succeeded in killing him. No, he had not deserved the hate he had received at home, unlooked for. After all, he had been a child, what could he have done to earn such treatment? Yet there were others who had suffered the same, and yet they had been strong. They had not chosen the easiest path, the one who seemed to fulfill their desire for revenge the fastest. No, he was not worthy of Albus Dumbledore. It made no sense that the man should want to associate with him, more than the simple master-servant relationship that he led in his own kind way. But were it true, still he would wish to avoid the old man of the pain of his loss. For he was sure his life would end soon. Perhaps as a result of the discovery of his treachery, perhaps by an accident while the Dark Lord had fun, or perhaps.. He would simply relieve the world of his presence, adding to the ridding of evil the Potter boy could manage in the years to come.

'Ah, Severus. That is what you fail to understand. I do worry, as do others, though you do not notice. You are worthy though you deem yourself not to be. You took a wrong turn, yes, perhaps the idea of being feared instead of hummiliated appealed to you, perhaps punishing others made you feel like you were punishing those who had hurt you. You were proved wrong in both aspects and turned back. Not too late, it is never too late to repent. The evil may not be cured, but further may wounds be avoided. You took innocent lives, they willl forever lie on your concious. But you have saved others. And here you are helping the Light to conquer over the Darkness. Understand also that there are others who care for you. For your thoughts and peace of mind. It is difficult in these times of Gloom. Your heart is shattered, but there is still glue running through your veins pumped through your body by a desire to do good. We may still make your heart whole once more... there is still hope.'

Dumbledore spoke softly, taking Severus' hand once more in a rather firce grip for the man was making attempts at pulling it back. Snape closed his eyes in pain at the sweet cruelty of the words and feeling he could fight no longer finally succumbed to the loving grasp, tears spilling from his eyes. He felt someone moving nearer and was suddenly enveloped in a tender embrace. He did not know what to do, he did not recall being hugged as if by a father before, hugged at all indeed. He simply let himself fold into the frail and old form of the man he respected and loved above all others.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Do you honestly think I'd be here if I owned it?

Note: Thanks, once again for all the encouraging reviews. Now, this chapter required some serious thinking but here it is. Hope you enjoy it.

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Dumbledore sat at the side of the bed, his robes still stained with blood and tears, his hand clasped firmly over the sleeping man's one. He was tired beyond belief, every bone in his body seeming to weigh him down. His heart a boulder unfit to lie in his chest. There were glittering paths of salty tears running down Snape's sunken cheeks even as he slept, as were sparkling crusts of dried tears in Dumbledore's own beard. The old man tugged at his beard thoughtfully, perhaps there would yet appear a ray of sunshine in the ever dark graveyard that was Severus' mind? He would be content with at least a glimmer of moonlight. Simply any light to illuminate the darkness of his thoughts, a shining beacon of hope.

'Professor Dumbledore, you should get some rest.'

Madam Pomfrey's voice rang through the room as she approached her employer, who was obviously lost in thought. She was curious about what had taken place after she left but she was certainly more concerned for the well being of the Headmaster himself who had passed the night in vigil. A soft cough to attract his attention issued from the woman's lips when he made no sign of recognition. Slowly, the twinkling blue eyes were meeting her own. But the twinkle was gone, replaced by such a profound weariness it was impossible to find anywhere but in one's soul.

'He seems to be sleeping quite peacefully. You ought to get some breakfast and some sleep at the very least.'

Dumbledore sighed and turned his eyes once more on the sleeping Potions Master. He did appear to be sleeping alright, though the clenched jaw made him suppose otherwise. Still, he was not as young as he used to be and it would not help Severus if he were to fall ill himself. Albus rose to his feet and patted the bony arm softly before heading towards the door.

'Thank you Poppy. I do believe I'll change and get something to eat. But do not hesitate to call me if there is any change.'

The healer nodded and waited till the Headmaster had passed out of sight before closing the door silently and retreating back to her quarters casting a last glance at Snape.

Dumbledore headed straight to the Great Hall after changing into clean robes. As he had been expecting, even though it was early morning, Minerva Mcgonagall already sat munching on her breakfast. He took a seat beside her and nodded politely as she greeted him. He was not sure if Severus would appreciate any visitors, but he was also sure Minerva would not forgive him if he did not tell her.

'Minerva. Severus was injured after being summoned last night.'

He stated calmly, grimacing as she dropped her spoon with a loud clatter and her eyes filled with wild shock shot up to meet his.

'What?'

She whispered finally.

'We were in my office when he was summoned. He left immediately and I followed him naturally. But he had already apparated when I reached the gates. I waited at the apparating post and after hours he showed up, gravely injured.'

Minerva sighed in frustration and stared at her plate stonily. Against all common reasoning she cared for the Slytherin head of house. Even when he had been one of her students she had always felt a strange affection for the pale, lonely boy. When he had returned to them after joining He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named she had experienced an incredible surge of pride she usually had only when concerning one of her gryffindors. And yet the man was worthy of being a Gryffindor himself; for it took great courage indeed to spy for the darkest wizard ever. Her gaze focused on Dumbledore once more.

'Is he...mortally wounded?'

Her voice trembled slightly as she asked, fearing the answer would be positive. Yet if Albus was sitting having breakfast it surely meant he was not? Certainly he would not leave the young man alone in his death bed?

'No. Fortunately, though the damage was serious, Madam Pomfrey managed to patch him up.'

Dumbledore tried to respond lightly, for he saw the fear mirrored in her eyes as she spoke. It was instantly replaced by relief and a small breath was released as the tension left.

'I wish to see him.'

'Yes, I thought so. Let us finish eating and then we'll go by. He was sleeping quite nicely when I left and we would not like to disturb him now.'

The woman nodded and turned back to her breakfast, yet her appetite was visibly diminished. She heard Dumbledore sigh and the scrape of a fork agaisnt the plate as he began eating.

'I remember the first day he began teaching. Those three rules he declared before we had even greeted him.'

Dumbledore frowned slightly. He remembered also, but it was not a happy memory. Not one to be remembered fondly. Those were the key bricks to the wall he had formed to isolate himself from his collegues. Snape had entered the room like a silent spider creeping through the darkness, startling Professor Flitwick into a loud a shriek. No opportunity to offer a word of greeting was given before he had swept across the room. And seating himself rather awkardly declared the conditions to becoming part of the staff, even as he stared into nothingness. No one was to disturb him in his private quarters; no personal enquiries about his person were to be made; and no one was to touch him. Quite sad indeed. The stunned look of all the staff as he finished and departed from the room. Even after all these years, only Minerva and himself had truly succeeded in breaking a small hole through that brick wall and sweeping the dust away.

'Yes. It's remarkable how you ignored all three.'

Minerva sniffed into her spoon as she led a small amount of porridge to her mouth.

'Most certainly. I will not stand for absurd statements like those. People like Severus have to be ignored when they petition to be left alone, for they will never tell anyone they desire their company. Even today he still acts as though I'm annoying him with my presence when he's in a particularly vindictive mood.'

Dumbledore managed a small smile. As they finished their breakfast, as though by an unspoken agreement they both got to their feet and walked silently to the Hospital Wing, each lost in their own thoughts.

As they entered the room they saw Madam Pomfrey beside the patient's bed in obvious distress, bolts of light issuing from her wand in quick succession but seemingly achieving nothing. Snape was shaking madly, his jaw clenched tightly in an attempt to keep silent. His hands were as white as the linen sheets and curled into tight fists, a trickle of blood oozing from between his bony fingers.

Dumbledore rushed foward to the side of the bed while Mcgonagall watched anxiously from the foot of the bed. Her mouth the thinnest of lines as she struggled to mantain her composure.

'What is it Poppy?'

The old man asked worriedly as he noticed how shallow Severus' breath was, an alarming sing indeed coupled with the uncontrolable trembling.

'I'm afraid to say it seems an after effect of the Cruciatus curse.'

She declared promptly, though a slight frown of confusion was already forming in the woman's forehead.

'The thing is I've only ever heard of such attacks in victims submitted to it for years. And in such magnitude there are but few cases, in which the witch or wizard had been subject to it since infancy..'

Poppy gave the Headmaster a questioning glance. Her eyes widened as Dumbledore nodded sombrerely.

'His father was a rather unbalanced man...'

Mcgonagall herself looked shocked the healer discovered as she chanced a quick peek at the woman. Minerva swayed on the spot.

'And he never told us?'

She whispered in horror, even while staring at the still shaking Snape.

'I only found out when he left school...'

The three started as a mumble escaped the man lying on the bed. His eyes were still closed but it appeared he was trying to speak. Madam Pomfrey hurried to fetch a cup of water and led it to Snape's lips, a trickle entered his mouth though most was shaken by the constant movement and she quickly retrieved the cup and set in on the bedside table.

'You see Headmaster...'

'What is it Severus?'

'We pick what we harvest...and I gather naught but thorns.'

Dumbledore frowned deeply in concern, though in his eyes there shone pity.

'But if you planted a rosebush Severus, where are the flowers?'

'They're dead and gone.'

Snape replied weakly after a shuddering gasp, his eyes were rolling madly in his head and blood was beginning to stain the sheets. While the two woman watched the exchange mutely, each wondering what was going on about. Dumbledore took Severus' hand and gently tried to pull the fingers apart, which proved to be quite difficult. As he pried them carefully away they all saw the mark where his fingernails had pierced into the skin. Before the agonising man could hurt himself further Albus slid his hands into his and clasped both firmly, even as blood soaked his own hands.

'I never saw them bloom...there were no windows in my room...'

Minerva knew the man was delirious as Poppy administered some fever reducing spell even as he kept mumbling. Yet there was probably some truth to those words, perhaps the answer to her unasked question all those years he had been her student. She had always wondered how he came back from the summer holidays looking as though he had not seen the sun during those months, an idea that his family passed vacation in some cold country with scarce sun had always been a good enough hipothesis.

A violent shivering took hold of Snape again even when he had seemed to regain his composure. A slight whimper escaped him before clamping his jaw shut and breathing heavily through his over large nose. Dumbledore leaned foward to whisper soothingly to the young man, though as the room was silent his words seemed to echo around them.Minerva noticed suddenly the thin scratches on Dumbledore's wrists as Snape scraped frantically, trying to close his twitching hands again.

'Albus. He's hurting you.'

Dumbledore gave her a penetrating glare.

'It is better if he hurts me than himself.'

He declared stoutly and once more leaned foward.

'You don't have to hold the pain Severus. You can scream or cry if you need to.'

Snape shook his head, gritting his teeth. Poppy was astounded at the resistance of the rather young Potions Master, she had heard about the Cruciatus curse and had deemed it the most painful torture created by man. Indeed, seeing how people had been tortured into insanity by it's prolonged use she was more than shocked to see how Snape endured it. His face a mask, betrayed the pain only by his twitching hands and clenched jaw.

'I will not s-scream again father. F-forgive me...'

Dumbledore watched him silently, his own face mirroring none of the scratches he was being induced at the moment; nor the guilt and pity he was feeling either. Minerva's nostrils flared white as she listened to the incoherent stuttering, while Poppy gasped.

'Calm down now, dear boy.'

The old man whispered tenderly as the effects started to diminish. The frantic clawing of his pale bony hands stopping slowly, jaw slackening until he was eased into a restless sleep.

'I'll give him some Dreamless Potion.'

Madam Pomfrey said as she went to fetch the potion. Dumbledore sat down, still clasping Snape's hands as they waited silently. After a few seconds the nurse came back and she coaxed a few mouthfuls to the dozing man.

'We'll stay to guard his sleep Poppy.'

Minerva declared shooing the shocked woman away and conjuring a chair took a seat on the bed's other side. Dumbledore sat silently, watching the sleeping man.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: -

Note: Ok, this is not my favorite chapter...it was complicated. Thoughts are so contradicting. Minds are so complex. Anyways, thanks once again for all the encouraging reviews. I've got something more entertaining planned for the next chapter and I hope you enjoy this one too.

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Dumbledore sat silently, guarding the man's sleep, his mind wandering.

Those years Snape had been a student, he had watched him from afar. Wondering what would become of him, as he did with all his students. Knowing time would pass and some would be lead to the Darkness, and yet somehow hoping it would not be so. That all would be won by the Light, that some way or other everything would be Good. Though as he watched the Slytherins of that year progress, in his heart he knew that many would be seduced. Taken away from his loving grasp. He was certain however, that no one was born with a bad heart. Though it was true, of course, that some hearts corrupted easier than others. And it came as no real shock (though he had been devastated) when Snape came to show him his Dark Mark. His sense of failure had been keen, and yet, mingled with that sense of defeat. There had been a small piece of shining hope, that he had won back at least one. That at least one had returned, not too late. And most surprising that it had been _him_, one who had suffered so much in all his life. At home, at school... One who should desire revenge on all, who should hate the world in an attempt to feel something apart from pain. But his heart had been true, his concious strong, his evil nothing more than the effect of all that hatred and pain. It grieved him, to see the man roaming still in that darkness, his sense of guilt and self-hatred pityful to see. His mind was set though. He had chosen wrong, as many others did. But he turned back. Recognizing that others did not deserve to be treated that way just because he had been thus handled; that purebloods, half-bloods and "mudbloods" were equals; that muggles did not choose the way they were and had no blame; that all should be able to choose, to think what they wished without being killed or tortured; that one could stand by one's posture without resorting to force others into one's view; that the world deserved peace. In otherwords, he had not been Voldemort.

Mcgonagall stared at the sleeping man, her mind in turmoil.

After those shocking revelations about his private life, those pieces of information that reflected his misery...it was hard to stop the pity from surfacing, drowning all other emotions away. She trusted him. Knew he was no real Death Eater at heart. Even more after this torture. For who would go back for more torture willingly? Who would return to what they despised? Only a madman. Or one so completely broken they were nothing but an empty shell. And he was neither. For he was most certainly not crazy, and the suffering of his soul was a clear sign he was still alive inside. Even if he was dying. And yet, she couldn't but help wonder at his real reasons for turning back. Was it that he truly believed in what the Light stood for...or was it simply that he could not stand the guilt? His usual demenour would suggest the latter, dissapointing. But he was such a private man and had suffered so much in his years... it might just be an act. Yes, she tried to convince herself it was really so. And she was nearly sure, who could blame him from wanting to protect himself further? Who could blame him for being so unpleasant when almost no one had been pleasant with him?

Snape woke slowly. Every muscle in his body aching him. Every bone seeming to grind with the next with an excruciating pain and a horrible rasp that roared in his ears. His eyelids were heavy as he lifted them with difficulty. Dumbledore was sitting beside him, hands still grasping his own. The twinkling blue was not visible, for his eyes were closed, though he was sure the old man was not asleep. Mcgonagall was staring at him, though her eyes were unseeing. There was a sticky wetness in his hands, the blood, he knew. The shame. The agony had been intense, and his whole mind had been set in hiding the pain. But their words were echoing in his ears, the shocked silences, the imagined images (for his eyes had been closed).

Albus opened his eyes and set them on Snape.

'How're you feeling Severus?'

The old man whispered finally as Severus disentangled their hands carefully and held them before him, blood dripping on the white bedsheets.

'Better thank you.'

'You gave us quite a scare young man.'

Snape didn't respond, but stared pointedly at Mcgonagall. Disgusted at himself for his rudeness. But why had Dumbledore had to bring her along? Just to add another witness to his moment of shame and misery. And now she knew. Minerva pursed her lips at his attitude and glared back, though there was also something akin to pity in her piercing eyes.

'Good evening Severus.'

'Good evening.'

He replied stiffly. He would not be able to speak to her again, converse with her without seeing that pity in her eyes. That knowing glance of simpathy.

'I'll get Madam Pomfrey to check you over again and clean your wounds.'

She said suddenly and hurried to fetch the Hogwarts matron. Madam Pomfrey came bustling in, her eyes still wide with shock.

'Ah- you're awake. Poor boy, quite an attack you had back there. Let's see you over then, shall we?'

Without waiting for any comfirmation of agreement, her wand was out, tutting in an annoying way. With the ease of experience she tended the cuts in his hands, cleaning them carefully and sprinkling a light blue potion before spelling them away. Snape remained silent as she did this, feeling most light-headed and weak. Which made him feel considerably angry, remembering inevitably those times his father had beat him or submitted him to the Cruciatus as a child. He slumped back on his pillow feeling faint, eyelashes fluttering agaisnt the dark shadows under his eyes.

'When was the last time you ate?'

The voice rang in his ears, pounding through his mind like a hammer clanging agaisnt a metal door.

'A-a day and a half ago...I believe.'

He replied weakly, his head swimming.

'No wonder you're fainting like that. You must get something to eat immediatly, since you refuse to let me...'

'Hush Poppy. I'll feed him now.'

Dumbledore interrupted, his voice kind but firm. Madam Pomfrey frowned in slight anger but left all the same, for she could not refuse the Headmaster.

'I'll be right next door if there's any emergency Headmaster.'

She grumbled as her footsteps flapped away. Severus felt a sudden coolness pressing lightly on his wrist and opened his eyes blearedly to see Dumbledore taking his pulse before setting himself comfortably on the edge of the bed.

'So what would you like to eat dear boy?'

The old man asked kindly.

'I've never really known what your favorite food was,'

Snape forced his eyes to snap open and was dissapointed to see Mcgonagall was still there, though she seemed to be watching silently from the foot of the bed.

'Anything light...I'm not much hungry.'

Dumbledore frowned slightly for a moment, then hooked his benign smile back on. Minerva waved her wand around suddenly a produced a steaming bowl of warm broth.

'How about some meat broth then?'

'F-fine.'

Dumbledore placed the bowl on his lap and dipped a spoon into the savoury liquid. The old hand didn't waver however as it led the food to Severus' mouth. Snape opened to protest, for though he was not feeling well enough to hold a pin he was not about to let the Headmaster feed him like that. But Dumbledore took advantage and slipped in.

'Headmaster I must protest. I will feed myse-'

Snape gave in as Dumbledore cast him a stern look and kept refilling the spoon and guiding it towards him. The bowl was nearly empty when he waved his hand for the old man to stop.

'Come on Severus. Just a few more spoonfuls.'

The kind voice coaxed softly with pleading eyes. Snape grimaced and shook his head.

'I do not think I could hold anymore.'

He whispered, his stomach grumbling with pleasure.

'Very well. But perhaps in a while you could handle some warm cocoa?'

Dumbledore smiled as Mcgonagall snorted at his comment and she banished the bowl away.

'Now Severus. I've been thinking.' Dumbledore paused, 'Perhaps, it would be better if you actually presented the potion before the appointed time. Pleasing Voldemort and avoiding further torture?'

Mcgonagall started slightly at the name, but inched foward all the same.

'I do think it might be a good idea.'

Snape frowned.

'When would _before_ be?'

'Tomorrow. If you're feeling well enough. Keep in mind that this is your choice Severus. But I've been giving it some serious thought, and it might possibly avoid you his displeasure...'

Severus swallowed uneasily and then nodded. Yes, it might be a good idea after all. Though he was not sure the man would be so easy to please...and yet, it was a possibility. Anyways, if he was going to be tortured what was the use of postponing it.

'Fine. I will take it to him tomorrow.'


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: The usual story.

Note: Sorry for the last chapter if you thought it was lousy or anything. Hope you enjoy this one. Keep reviewing:)

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Snape ate his breakfast haltingly, fear he usually kept at bay slinking into his mind. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. After all, what should he fear? _Death? _No, he did not fear it..he welcomed it. _Torture? _He had been submitted to it for years, mental and physical- some more would make no difference. _Failure? _His whole existance was nothing but a failed attempt at creating a real life. No. There was truly nothing to fear.

Dumbledore watched him as he ate, picking at his own food. Grief weighing down on him like a heavy crown of lead. The tension seemed to fill the room with invisible strings that kept them tied down, their heads bowed. But did they not send the man to avoid him further anger from Voldemort? And yet, the sense of foreboding was strong. A looming gray shadow of threatening rain. If Severus died... Dumbledore choked on his tea, but managed to fake a small smile as the young man's head shot up. Would he be happier if he died? Perhaps he was right. He loved him too selfishly to realise he would be better off dead. That his life was miserable and void, full of hatred and pain. No! His heart protested vehemently. He had a right to know real happiness and not simply fade into oblivion. No, he could not die.

'I'll accompany you to the gates Severus.'

The old man whispered as Snape put his spoon down, leaving the plate half full. Severus nodded and stood up, trying not to sway as the world tilted dangerously for a few seconds. Blinking the spots from his eyes he took a step foward and then strided from the Hospital Wing, leaving Dumbledore to follow him in his wake. Albus got up swiftly and in a few steps had caught up with the weakened man. He had not said anything, but Minerva was waiting for them at the gates, wanting to see the young Potions Master before he left. As they neared the gates, Snape stopped suddenly at sighting the woman standing there. Dumbledore thought he heard a small sigh, or perhaps a grumble, coming from the young man but was not sure as, barely a second later he had continued on his way.

'Severus. I just, wanted to see you off.'

Minerva greeted hesitantly. The sky seeming to mirror her confusion: over the castle a startling blue, without a single cloud; while above them loomed summer rain clouds in a grayish background, advancing to take over and blot the color away. Snape's demenour was much too cool for a man who was walking right into possible torture from the hands of the most evil wizard of their time. And yet, she asked herself, should she be so surprised? He had been risking his life for years- but it was still unnerving to see no fear in his eyes. She would have welcomed the human emotion more than the creepy emptiness. That black void. She glanced at Dumbledore, who was looking sombre, and wondered if he was asking himself the same question that kept swimming through her head. Would they ever see him alive again? It was strange. The young man had been doing this for over a year. But He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's insanity seemed to grow with every day, and what was left of Severus' will to live dwindling faster than ever. Albus would be devastated if they were to lose him...and, she had to admit she would be quite grieved too. What were they waiting for? The three were just standing silent, casting cool shadows on the barren earth track... It was the first time they were actually with him just before meeting with _Him. _That, more than anything, seemed to give a feeling of change. For good or bad was the question.

Snape apparated suddenly, leaving the pair staring at the sun sparkling in the dust. He had decided to leave before any farewells, he always left alone. And now he was reassured that it was better that way, he could not bear to see the terror and doubt in their eyes, or the pity shining from glowing blue orbs as he had seen when he had chanced a last look at the Headmaster. He had known the old man had attempted to transmit him some hope- but he had failed. And yet he wondered, if Dumbledore himself knew the happiness he spoke of. He lived in constant war. Ever the grandiest warrior and the only real hope (apart from Potter) of the wizarding world's resistance agaisnt the disruptions of peace that succeeded one another. He would give anything, _do _anything. Even live forever, if it were to allow Albus to find the peace he desired in the world he lived...and not in the grave. For he truly deserved it.

'My Lord.'

Snape mumbled instantly upon arriving before Voldemort. The young man bowed awkardly, his hair shielding his face as usual. He could almost feel the horrible red eyes boring into his head, trying to pierce through him; almost feel the anger radiating from him at the interruption.

'I have brought you the potion my Lord.'

Voldemort watched the man silently for a moment. Torn between two predominating emotions, he banished the papers he had been perusing with a wave of his wand and stepped down from his chair. Rage at being interrupted so blatantly, so arrogantly...satisfaction at receiving the potion before the expected time. A smirk reached his thin, colorless lips as his mind reached a conclusion that served both aspects nicely.

'Indeed?'

'Yes, my Lord.'

'Very well. And yet...you deem yourself important enough to interrupt me? To present yourself before me without being summoned?'

Severus raised his eyes slightly, Voldemort's voice was like poisonous oil someone was trying to sweeten with salt. The dark wizard, was indeed, grinning maliciously. Like a naughty child who is about to trip a younger student making him fall in the mud. But of course, Voldemort would trip him with a sword, making him fall into a pool of blood and rotting limbs.

'Forgive me. My Lord. I wanted nothing than to please thee.'

'Give me the potion.'

He ordered haughtily. Snape reached inside his robes and withdrew with a slightly trembling hand a small crystal vial. Taking a step foward he knelt on one knee and held it up, the dim light of small torches reflected. Voldemort extended a spidery hand and held the fragile object between two pincerlike fingers.

'What a nice color..purple.'

Snape gritted his teeth, the horrible sound of Voldemort's laughter echoing in his ears. Like the groans and pleads for mercy of the wizards and muggles he had watched die. Their last vision the torn and battered limbs of the ones they loved, and their very own, littered on the floor of their own houses. And the shadow of their murderers upon them, their cackles of laughter playing the last requiem.

'Would you care to do me a little favor Snape?'

Snape shook his head. It angered him to know the Dark Lord was having fun, for his mocking tone could only indicate that he was enjoying himself in his "humorous" malice. He would have preferred for him to be angry, even if the torture had been more painful, than to see his sickly pleasure.

'I care to see how the potion works. If you take a sip will it cause you death?'

Voldemort asked coldly, asking only because he was not about to let a follower escape him.

'No, my Lord.'

'Then take enough to see the effects but not permanently poison you. You see Severus. I am merciful, this is your only punishment for interrupting me.'

Snape looked up to see Voldemort pointed teeth in his evil smile. The mouth was twisted into a thin snarl as the seconds ticked by and silence reigned.

'Thank me.'

He ordered angrily.

'You are most merciful my Lord.'

Severus bowed as he spoke, struggling to keep the sarcasm from his voice. He took the vial once more and carefully uncorked it, he smirked grimly and took but a small sip.

'More.'

He downed one more gulp and handed it back to the white thin hands waiting impatiently. Snape gasped as frozen tentacles slithered down his neck and through his veins, freezing his blood into icy shards that ripped his chilling skin as they wandered through his body.

'What do you feel?'

'Cold.'

Voldemort sneered and jabbing his wand at the young man, watched him as he doubled to the floor and fell into a crumbled heap, before throwing him across the room.

'I believe we'll couple it with the Cruciatus curse when we use it. It will cause more pain and make things slightly less monotonous. You are dismissed.'

Severus disapparated back to Hogwarts. For a moment he wondered if he had erred in the location, as he landed in a blanket of soft snow. He could hear the sound of teeth chattering and suddenly realised they were his own. Dumbledore rushed foward as he saw the black bundle of robes appear suddenly just before the gate.

'Severus? Are you hurt?'

He asked worriedly. Snape shook his head with difficulty, his breath coming in short gasps. Dumbledore frowned in concern and helped the man to his feet.

'What did he do to you?'

'N-nothing, Headmaster. I'm fine. If y-you would be so kind as to escort me to my chambers.'

'We're going to the Hospital Wing and you can tell us what is wrong.'

Snape tried to protest, but finding he could hardly breath he decided not to risk uttering some useless words. Dumbledore took him by the wrist and nearly flinched at the icy coldness of his flesh. Sending a silver bird of mist from his wand to warn Madam Pomfrey of their arrival he tried to urge Snape foward. The young man took a few steps, but he could not feel his feet touching the stone. He fell on a thick pile of snow, of small pieces of sharping frost.

'Severus talk to me!'

Dumbledore coaxed urgently, turning the pale face and trying to meet the roaming eyes. He picked him in his arms, feeling as if he were carrying a bundle of frozen robes, instead of a warm human being.

'P-professor Dumbledore.'

The man stuttered as they reached the corridor and headed straight towards the healing wards.

'Oh, you've come back. How're you feeling?'

'Cold-d'

The old man pursed his lips in thought and his eyes widened as comprehension dawned upon him. He took longer strides and reaching the door pushed it open quickly.

'Headmaster.'

Poppy greeted as they came in, having abandoned her lunch to come to the her employer's summons. She took a glance at the shivering Snape as Dumbledore set him on the bed and strode foward.

'Again?'

She asked in a rather pained voice, she felt no strong attachment to the young man, but the horror of someone being tortured during almost the whole of their lives was enough to make her simpathise with him. Her keen eyes inspected him quickly, but she saw no signs of blood or broken bones.

'I'm afraid it's a potion this time Poppy. Am I right Severus?'

He asked turning towards him. Snape nodded stiffly, his lips tinged blue.

'What does it do?'

The witch asked, while taking his temperature and vital signals.

'It varies dep-pending on the wizard. On what w-will cause him more p-pain: burning fire or f-freezing ice.'

'Oh my goodness!' Poppy exclaimed after reading the thermometer. 'His temperature! 20 Cº!'

Gulping hard she murmured a warming spell and a bolt of fuzzy orange issued from her wand, settling on Snape like a wollen blanket before dissappearing with a crack. A mixture of a cough and a snort of grim laughter escaped him, making the woman frown and wonder if he was delirious. His pulse was weak after all.

'T-that won't work. The potion will freeze or b-burn the drinker alive within a few hours.'


	10. Chapter 10

Disclaimer: Again

Note: I have no idea where this is going. I'll probably end this story in a few chapters... But anyways, hope you enjoy this one and thanks for the reviews. By the way, I don't know why it's not showing the updates..but well, check well.

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Poppy gave a startled yell and jumped, but Dumbledore remained silent. Snape smirked finally.

'The Dark Lord was not so m-merciful. I took but a sip, s-so the effect will p-pass in a few hours. But no s-spell will do anything.'

The woman led a trembling hand to her chest, trying to steady the rapid beating of her heart.

'I see you are well enough to give an old woman a heart attack Professor Snape.'

The man just lay back down on the pillows, eyes closing, breathing laboured. Dumbledore ventured foward at a stern and questioning glance from the Hogwarts matron, though he suspected the answer.

'Are you sure nothing will help Severus?'

'An antidote?' Madam Pomfrey added to the question.

The eyes snapped open, revealing glaring black orbs, smouldering like burning coals on which a bucket of water has been dropped.

'You would t-think I would know. Having created the p-potion. No s-spell will help, I a-am sure. As to the antidote. I-it only has any e-effect if the victim has d-drunk the neces-s-s-sary amount to kill him. If I w-were to take it, it would burn me wi-within a few seconds.'

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, yet she knew it was useless to continue further argument. The man was an accomplished Potions Master and if he said there was no antidote and the potion nulified spells...Then, there was not much she could do. She made him lie down on the bed more comfortably, changing his robes and taking off his shoes, before tucking him in tightly. Dumbledore bade her go continue her lunch, though her appetite was all gone.

Snape hardly felt the blankets on him. It only felt like snow was being piled on him. They were burying him in snow. But the snow was red, he realised with a bolt of panick. He could feel the red glare through his closed eyelids, Voldemort was burying him in the snow where all those people had died. The people he had killed. They would haunt him while he died, suffocating and freezing under their blood and the snow.

'Severus. Wake up child.'

He could hear the crackle of the frost that had formed in his eyelids as they lifted slowly. Dumbledore's crooked nose looming into view along with his kind glance.

'I do not think it advisable for you to be asleep while the potion takes effect dear boy.'

The young man blinked, tiny specks of ice cutting into his eyes. As he tried to sit up straighter, a small moan escaped him. Every bone in his body had been transformed into pieces of sharp heavy frozen iron, his blood was but icy water with shards of ice cutting into his chilled organs.

'Y-yes.yr -right.'

Dumbledore smiled at him, pity and love shining in his eyes and lifted himself to his feet. Snape tried to nod in farewell, after all, how could he expect the Headmaster to waste any more of his precious time on him. It was enough they were keeping him at the Hospital Wing. Though he had not asked for it.

'You don't mind if I lay beside you, do you Severus? It might help to warm you up.'

Snape frowned, though he was not sure if his face had moved. He did not feel anything apart from sheer pain and cold. Perhaps he was hallucinating? A sudden warmth descended on his side, as the old man positioned himself so Severus' head rested on his chest, and wrapped his arms around the starved body. It was as though a shovel had dug a hole through his grave of snow and let the shining sun come in.

'Ah..you're freezing my child.'

Albus murmured softly as he enveloped the young man in a warm embrace. Shivering kept convulsing Snape, a mixture of pain and cold.

'If I could avoid you this pain Severus...'

'I d-deserve it. Nothing more than I d-deserve...'

Dumbledore carressed the protruding cheekbone, feeling the sunken dip that signaled his lack of food. Alas.

'No Severus. We have all ready discussed this. I only wish I could to something to alleviate you the pain. Is it too bad?'

'It is _painful_..'

He gasped finally, letting a small sob wrack his body. Dumbledore squeezed him tighter, though gently, rather apprehensive of breaking some fragile bone. Even as he saw the young man in such agony, his heart stung with grief. Though perhaps light had come into the graveyard? A bud appeared in the thorny bush? A window in his dark dungeon? For it was strange that he had shown his emotion, ever so slightly. Just letting himself be hugged...a salty tear ran down the wrinkled face and into his silver beard. His eyes strayed back to the pale face lying on his red robes and saw with a pang that he had fallen asleep once more.

'Severus.'

He called softly again. The eyelashes fluttered as the man struggled to regain conciousness.

'F-forgive me. I cannot remain a-awake.'

Dumbledore shook his head slightly and wove his fingers through the greasy raven hair that fell on the Potions Master's shoulders. Snape sighed feeling queer. The warm, steady beating of Dumbledore's heart in his ears bringing him an unknown emotion. It was powerful and deep. Like a candle lighted suddenly in the utter darkness. Like a sudden melody to a world of silence. Like the warm glow of a globe of fire held between chilly hands on an autumn afternoon.

'There is nothing to forgive. I wish I could leave you sleep, but it's for your own good.'

Snape jerked his head awkardly in a nod. He could hardly feel his body anymore. Limbs, bed, sheets...everything was lost in a sea of pain. Just indescribable cold and pain.

'What do you say we talk a bit to keep you awake?'

Dumbledore asked kindly, looking down to check the young man was still awake.

'V-very well.'

He replied stuttering. Though he was doubtful it would be any help. His eyelids seemed to weigh like small pieces of metal, painfully sharp anchors cutting through and pulling them down. Dumbledore decided to tread carefully around the conversation. It would not do to have Severus distressed by some topic he found uncomfortable. The choice was difficult. For everything seemed to be mingled with grief in his life.

The door opened suddenly with a bang, revealing a harrassed-looking Minerva Mcgonagall. Strands of her hair escaping the usual tight bun as she hurried towards the two wizards, trying to hide her surprise at the paternal sight. She had heard from Poppy about Severus and the potion, but she had been unable to visit him, having just been contacted by Headquarters.

'Albus! Tonks and Shacklebolt were ambushed by dementors on their way to the Ministry!'

Dumbledore gasped slightly in surprise. Stones of keen grief and worry dropping down into the pool of misery of his soul. He remained still though, as to not disturb Severus. Who was still shivering slightly leaning on his chest and gathered between his arms.

'Were they injured?' he asked in a choked whisper. 'Surely not kissed?' he added, voice cracking in sudden fear.

Mcgonagall shook her head and managed a faint smile, though her heart was beating painfully fast.

'No. No, they are fine. Well, they _are_ aurors after all. And both with good strong patronuses.'

She replied, conjuring a chair and taking a seat. Taking a look at Snape she saw with a pang that he was shivering, even under all those blankets covering him and his lips were tinged with a bluish light, his skin a traslucid white.

'Thank goodness. The dementors, did they escape?'

'No, the Ministry forces arrived in time to bind them and they have been imprisoned.'

Dumbledore nodded and let out a small sigh of relief. Leaning back more comfortably on the pillows, though his mind felt as though he were falling back into nothingness. Voldemort was everywhere. The war was waging in all the corners of the wizarding world. And while he strived to protect one warrior, others were being attacked. The frustration welled inside him like a black hole, threatening to suck him in. Bringing despair. But he would not let himself be beaten. He would fight for the world until he died.

'How are you Severus?'

The woman asked returning her gaze from Dumbledore to the young man in his arms. A slight frown creased between her eyebrows as she discovered Snape was asleep, his eyes closed tightly in pain even as he wandered in the realm of sleep. She raised a questioning eyebrow at the Headmaster, who looking down and seeing the closed eyelids sighed once more.

'It's the potion. It's making him fall asleep. I don't think it recommendable, but he does seem to suffer less when he's asleep. So I'll leave him a few minutes.'

Minerva nodded. Wondering at the irony of the situation: that the wizard who had created the poison should be destined to be it's first drinker. Impaled by one's own sword, one might say. Though of course, she though with a surge of affection for the Potions Master, he had been ordered to create it. He had just been following orders of He-Must-Not-Be-Named, and he did not deserve the pain. And yet, did any of them deserve what they were going through? Dumbledore, Harry, Snape, Lupin, the Weasleys...All who were dead. Who had died fighting for all they believed it. She gave a small sigh. Sometimes, when she let herself be overcome by reality, she frowned at the injustice of the world. Questioned the decisions of Fortune and Destiny, the discrimination of Happiness and the mercylessness of Sorrow.

'I cannot help being relieved it was not Severus who encountered the dementors.'

The old man mumbled as he stroked the sleeping man's face tenderly, more to himself than anyone. Minerva frowned slightly.

'How come? He is a powerful wizard, he wouldn't have any trouble fending them off.'

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, his blue eyes still locked on the young man held in his arms.

'Severus could not have fought the dementors.'

Mcgonagall frowned more deeply, and threw the old man a bewildered look.

'While Severus was at school... His Defence Against the Dark Arts professor never came to me with any complains...but, there was an incident that he thought he should bring to my attention.' Dumbledore paused and inspected the face contorted in pain, the ache in his heart matching.

'While learning the Patronus Charm in his sixth year, Severus was unable to comply. Everyone had managed to conjure one. After all, it is not very difficult in a sunny classroom with no dementors near. But, alas, Severus had not been able to.'

Minerva knew some wizads were more easily overcome by dementors than others. Some, because they had known little sadness and horror and were easy prey to it. Other because they had had too much sorrow and dreadfulness and could no longer fight it. But everyone she had known and knew had been able to conjure a patronus, if only in a lighted classroom.

'Why?'

She whispered softly, watching Dumbledore's steady gaze locked on the Potion Master.

'He could not summon any happy memories. Can you believe it?'

He responded, voice breaking. Tears sprang to his eyes and strayed down into the white pool.

'Nothing he remembered was happy enough to create a patronus. He had pleasant memories, but all were mixed with grief and darkness...And no one ever noticed. No one ever knew.'


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: FAN-FICTION

Note: Thanks once again for all the great reviews. Quite a morale booster! Anyways, hope you enjoy this new chapter and don't forget to review. Thanks.

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The snow that had settled on his eyelids crackled and fluttered down onto his cheeks as he opened his eyes, awakening slowly from his pain-filled sleep. Warmth was beginning to spread making his skin tingle slightly, even if alternate shivers still coursed through him. The last rays of sunshine were glittering agaisnt the window panes of the Hospital Wing while Dumbledore snored quietly in his doze.

'Ah you're awake Professor Snape?'

Madam Pomfrey asked advancing towards them, leaving a box of potions she had been stocking on the floor. She cast a tender glance at the Headmaster before gently prodding him awake. Dumbledore woke with a start and then immediately smiled, as he always seemed to do. Straightening as he got up from the bed with a kind smile and went to stand beside the Hogwarts matron.

'How're you feeling Severus?'

The old man asked softly with eyes twinkling in concern.

'Much better.'

Snape responded truthfully, even though a shiver shook him as he spoke. Dumbledore nodded in contentment while Madam Pomfrey proceeded to check his pulse and temperature. Muttering and scowling slightly she motioned for the Headmaster to follow her to her office when she finished. The Potions Master's eyes narrowed in suspicion as they left, leaving him waiting impatiently. He knew he had fallen asleep in the morning, even as Dumbledore voiced his idea of them having some kind of conversation to keep him awake. Though that had not achieved it's desire result it seemed. He recalled faintly Mcgonagall stepping in to say something. But everything was running away like water melting from a block of ice.  
There was something else that disconcerted him. It was apparant that the Headmaster had stayed with him the entire time, even falling asleep. But he could not believe anyone would waste so much time on him, that anyone would _care_ enough as to stay with him all that time, especially someone so busy as Dumbledore. It was surely strange.

Dumbledore held the door open for Madam Pomfrey politely before following her in.

'What is it Poppy?'

He asked with a slight frown of worry.

'What is it?' the woman exclaimed in an annoyed half-strangled whisper, 'I don't know how long you expect Professor Snape to continue like this. But I can asure you he won't be lasting long.'

The old man stared at her silently. The usual warm glow of his eyes extinguishing with a gust of icy wind; the wrinkles seeming to accentuate; the weight of age growing heavier making his shoulders stoop; the sorrow in his heart so terrible it ached.

'I am sorry Albus.' the woman replied, soothed at the clear shock and grief the Headmaster was experiencing. Helping Dumbledore lower himself into a chair as his strength failed him. The old man swallowed and finally took a deep breath.

'Are you sure?'

'Completely.'

Blue eyes stared at her silently. Like the soundless tide retreating, leaving the shore riddled with skeletons of fish and algae. His voice gone as a wail of despair threatened to engulf him. He closed his eyes as he willed himself not to be let ocercome. There was still hope, always. If not for them, for the ones who would come later. And he would not let them alone in a world ruled by Voldemort without fighting.

'What can be done?'

He whispered finally.

Poppy sighed softly before speaking.

'He's very weak Dumbledore. One more deadly poison or a couple of Cruciatus and if he comes back soon enough for you to see him on his death bed it will be a miracle.' the woman stated bluntly, then continued, 'What he needs is lots of rest and sleep and _feeding,_ ' she paused with a stern glance, 'and you know what I mean by that.'

Dumbledore nodded morosely. Sharp blades piercing through his heart; this would be inmensely difficult. How to convince a man who wished nothing but death, to fight to remain alive. When his heart's desire stood within his grasp, when by simply extending his hand he could embrace his long-wished dream. But he would not give in. Resign himself to lose him. Let Voldemort triumph as he robbed one more person of the chance for happiness. Especially Severus, who had yet to discover it.

'Yes. I will do everything possible.'

'And more.' Madam Pomfrey added significantly.

'I will go to speak with him.' Dumbledore said finally, wiping the tears that had spilt from his eyes with a sweep of his hand. Poppy watched him silently as he strided to the door and swinging it open passed through to attempt his "mission". His parting words were without hope, and yet, not of despair. In perfect match with the situation.

Albus strolled back into the room, somehow attempting to devise a conversation, arguments to prove his point. But his mind was too numb with shock of the news and inevitably distracted by the keen pain in his heart. Snape was resting against the pillows, looking even more tired and paler than usual. As he approached the young man's eyes shot open, revealing piercing black eyes with a streak of paranoia, implanted in his childhood and reinforced by his work as a spy. Dumbledore could not bring his lips to lift even slightly as a particularly painful stab shot through his heart.

'What was all the secrecy about?'

Snape asked, his voice a hint of a snarl.

'There are no secrets between us Severus. At least on my part.'

Severus lowered his eyes, his head aching as blood pounded hard through his veins.

'We were speaking about you.'

Snape raised an eyebrow, having suspected it. But deeming himself not important enough to warrant much notice.

'About what, exactly?'

Dumbledore studied him steadily over his half-moon glasses. The golden object twinkling slightly giving the impression the eyes were as bright, while in truth they were dead with anxiety, sorrow and if bright at all, only with unshed tears. He took a deep breath to regain his composure, and then began the war of wills.

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War of wills...what an used up, exploited frase...-.- ;)  



	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Get a grip on yourself if you're going to sue someone who's writing in Fanfiction.

Note: I actually liked this chapter! Thanks for all the reviews!

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_'About what, exactly?'_

_Dumbledore studied him steadily over his half-moon glasses. The golden object twinkling slightly giving the impression the eyes were as bright, while in truth they were dead with anxiety, sorrow and if bright at all, only with unshed tears. He took a deep breath to regain his composure before he began the war of wills._

'Severus you're dying.'

Dumbledore stated. The words had slipped from the bottom of his heart, even as he had been struggling to find the right way of beggining. Snape's lips curled in an unnatural sneer, his eyes suddenly bright. The old man closed his eyes for a brief moment at yet another stab of the sword of sorrow went through him. He had been expecting this reaction but that did not diminish the pain.

'Why so serious Professor?'

Snape questioned with a grim smile. He was going to be set free. He had never felt more elated, more content and relieved. Life had finally decided to have mercy on him and was prepared to release him. He had simply to wait, wait until Death came to take him away forever.

'Severus please. You must fight this. Madam Pomfrey says you just need rest, lots of sleep and...well, the treatment you refused the other day.'

The young man just gazed at him through half-closed eyelids. An almost pitying look, but one filled with content. Dumbledore felt his breath coming with difficulty as he realised Snape was clearly experiencing the closest he had ever come to happiness...but it was heart-wrenching to see that what brought that usually mirthful emotion was the thought of his own death.

'I _plead_ to _you_ Headmaster... Finally my life is in my own hands. I can depart without commiting a deed I am not worthy for. These kind of opportunities do not usually present themselves more than once and I will not waste it.'

He replied calmly, though the sadness in Dumbledore's blue eyes made his words taste like poison. He was poisoning the ocean, turning it into the black sea of darkness he was drowning in. Panick shot through him, he could not befoul the water! It would be corrupting the old man's soul. And if he was lost then all were doomed to the same fate. He was already responsible of so much hurt...he could not defile the only pure that could save them all. Yes, he would die and it was for the best.

Albus remained silent, a horrible hole seeming to suck everything inside him. Leaving nothing but a terribly dark void. Despair. His heart protested weakly, tears of blood dripping from it's wounds, straying down into the well of misery in the deepest part of his soul.

'You have yet much to live for.'

Snape narrowed his eyes and surpressed a snort.

'I was not aware of such.' he responded, with mock-surprise, 'More torture and pain, hatred and evil memories? Days darker than those I have already lived? I have been wishing and hoping for this release, this final mercy. Leave me free Albus. I beg you.'

Tears sprang to both their eyes. Dumbledore's face contracted in pain, Sorrow slashing his heart into thin threads, the well of Misery over-flowing, even as Despair threatened to end it all by leaving nothing but insanity. His hand seemed to move of it's own accord as it reached to caress the young man's cheek. Severus tensed immediately, a vein pulsing rapidly in his jaw. Dumbledore did not withdraw his hand. To withdraw would be to accept failure. He had failed in many aspects of his life. One of his greatest, failing to see the peculiar household Snape had lived in for years, he could not fail again. He could not lose him. Let Severus lose himself.

'My poor child...' Dumbledore murmured softly, watching as Snape closed his eyes, whether because of pain or sadness was impossible to tell.

'What about the Light my dear? There is still hope. Yes, for I _do_ believe in hope. Hope is everything. Even _you_ hoped for death. Hope now Severus. But hope for Light and Life. You can still know happiness my child. Shut your past into a chest and bury it beneath the earth, trample on the Darkness while you relish the sun shining in your beautiful garden of roses.'

Pools of ink shone with tears in the white sheet of paper.

'The sun has never spared a ray of light to my garden and everything is dead.' .

'Perhaps it was clouded by pain, anger and hate. But it may yet shine.'

'What then? A mock of life. Yet another prank, made a fool of again. To be shown happiness only to have it taken away. For the sun must always bow and leave when the night approaches.'

'But there would be no life if there was no sun.'

'There are creatures of the night. Creatures of darkness.'

'But they could not live were if not but for those of the Light.'

'Ah, you say it yourself Professor. Those of the Light serve nothing but to feed the Darkness.'

'But the sun always shines in the morning, it makes things grow. And the sun has always shone, has always given Life.'

'Yet even when the sun shines it casts shadows, and some are doomed to living in the darkness while those around them play in the Light.'

''They would need but take a step and the Light would reach them.'

'Then the sun would burn them or blind them in a false sense of safety making them stumble upon the thorns.'

'If they were cut there would be no fear.'

'But the ones who did that service would be scratched and hurt.'

'Then one small sting will teach the child not to stray across the path of thorns again and then guide the others that came.'

'It is not so. The ones who guide watch from the shadows, sacrificing themselves.'

'And simple equality? Night and Day, thorns and flowers.'

'That is but a dream. I was cast into a basement without reason and now must crawl in the dark. Like many others who slither on the floor towards an abyss without realising it.'

Dumbledore shook his head slowly as he watched the young man. The conversation could go on forever, for there was no real answer. But there was only one choice to be taken now.

'You stand on the final step of the stairs Severus. Either you stumble back and fall forever into the darkness, or you take a step foward and emerge into the Light.'

'I could not see and erred my last move, I placed my foot wrongly and now I waver. There are no walls to lean onto, not even a candle to guide me and I will fall.'

'But there is a voice calling through the darkness, trying to reach you. You need but listen to it carefully and you will find a helping hand that will pull you up.'

Dumbledore withdrew his hand and held it in the air, fingers wet from the tears that had strayed down to meet his fingers, waiting with baited breath and hoping.  
Severus gazed at the old man, at the overflowing blue ocean of his eyes with it's twinkling bright stars, and the extended hand. He lifted his own hand slowly, hesitant. _To fall back or step up. To fall back into darkness or emerge into the light. _A pale bony hand closed over an old wrinkled one. Albus grasped it tightly and pulled the man into a loving embrace, tears of joy blurring his sight as his childsobbed weakly on his chest.

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Note: Thoughts are ever so contradictory. I've found I agree more with Snape than with Dumbledore-all this angst is affecting me. Lol. No, really. Well, hope you enjoyed it and please review!  



	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: I wish!

Note: Aaah.. I liked this chapter. Anyways, next chapter will probably be the end. Thanks for all the reviews, they are truly delightful pastries to feed one's ego and pride and to swell the cake of contentment. :) Anyways, sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I relished in it's creation. Please be so kind as to continue in your reviews to let me know your opinion as always. Enjoy as you read!

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Dumbledore surpressed a sigh as he lowered the spoon. He longed to fly. To fly away till he reached the sun and turned to dust, a powdered gold that would sprinkle the people of the earth and make them rich with happiness. But he could not. When he looked into his eyes he saw only impenetrable dark. A velvety night in which the moon did not shine. He craved to see a glimmer of light, but even the stars seemed to have been turned off. How could he dream of helping the others when he could not save one? He saw the gaping hole of despair widenening as he looked upon Snape's pale countenance, when he heard Madam Pomfrey muttering under her breath as she checked him over, when he stopped at Headquarters and listened to the reports, when he looked at his wrinkled old hands lying on his lap, useless...

'You have taken my hand Severus and I will not let you go now that I have grabbed you by the fingertips. Just a few more spoonfuls please.'

Severus clawed his nails into his skin. There was an ache in his soul that stopped his breath and squeezed his heart, a grief so intense his head swam as he drowned in the ocean of sorrow. Even as Dumbledore held him he felt other hands of iron pulling him back into the darkness, throwing him back into the basement. And a small part of him wished to let go, to fall into his coffin and be buried beneath the blanket of forgetfulness that was Death.

'The Darkness will always be with us Albus. No matter how much you deny it to yourself.'

He whispered suddenly. The old man gazed into his eyes, his heart surging forth another spout of blood as it was wounded anew. He had to save him.

'Our hearts will be torches of hope that will illumine our souls and like beacons of Light we'll shine and drive away the darkness.'

A small frown appeared in Severus' usual calm demeanour, followed by a veil of somberness that enveloped him.

'But the dark will always be on us. Staining my arm and soul, edging deeper every wrinkle of yours reminding you of all the years you lost fighting, gazing back at Harry Potter as he looks at himself upon the mirror and sees the scar that will mark him forever, as families trace their family trees remember their dead...You may heal a wound with tears and smiles but the scars will forever remain. It is impossible to go back unstained, unblemished. If going back it can be called for there is no real returning, nothing is ever the same.'

'You are right. And yet will not having seen the darkness make the light seem ever brighter? And the darkness will diminish into a light gloom, a shadow of the past-'

'That will haunt you forever.' Snape concluded interrupting Dumbledore's sad reply.

'It is no use dwelling on the past. Look foward and up and not down and behind you. We will stand victorious bathing in the light.'

'Yes, celebrating upon the graves of the dead while the sun shines on their tombs.'

'We will raise our cups to their memories and sing their praise. All must lose to learn how to win, Severus.' he added gently.

'But when the lost ones are the lives of the innocent... They fought as much as others and yet they will not enjoy the light if it ever comes. Why won't you dance upon my grave too?'

'They died fighting for what they believed in. And their deathbeds were not of darkness, though they died at it's hands, they will lay on a bed of flowers bathed in the light of the sun they helped to drive away the storm clouds. But they did not die willingly as you are prepared to do, they died because they had no option. You erred once you say, do not mistake again. We will miss them, but you can still live Severus. You stand in an antechamber of Light, a room where those who were in the dark get accostumed to the light. You have grasped my hand and though the darkness may attempt to envolve you I will not let you go.'

'But if it threatened to drag us both down you shall release me!' Snape cried with vehemence in sudden panick, 'I will not be responsible of leaving the world without it's only hope.'

Dumbledore leaned foward as he set the bowl down and held both of the young man's hands.

'I would die to save you Severus.'

He stated clearly and with utmost honesty. Snape's lips parted slightly in surprise and he seemed to forget to breath as he looked into Albus' blue eyes and saw something unknown to him in them. Something he had seen shining in other's eyes, but never when gazing at him.

'And I live to help you save the world you love.'

He replied truthfully.

'But why? Why would you sacrifice yourself for me?' he questioned in confusion.

'Because I love you, my child.'

Dumbledore responded, his eyes still locked with Snape's.

Love. That was the strange brilliance he had seen. Love. The love of a parent he had never had. Love. Loved.

'I-love-you-too.'

He replied breakingly, ever word seeming to seal his conviction. Every word bringing him closer to Life. Dumbledore saw the brilliance in the black eyes and saw a star had been illumined. He pulled Snape towards him and embraced the young wizard who hugged him in turn, trembling.

'My child...'

Dumbledore murmured softly. He had uncovered a diamond in the dark mine, and with work and time perhaps the whole cave would be sparkling and the darkness buried beneath the rubble. Perhaps the sky would be lighted by thousands of stars once more. The graveyard transformed into a garden with flowers of dazzling colors and a shining sun unobscured by rain clouds. His desire to die into a wish to live. To live what though? If they lost. If Voldemort won, all would be lost. All would be lost. He pressed the young man closer to his chest and squeezed his eyes against the pain. Their hearts would be torches in the dark and their souls would never be conquered- not even by death. Whilst Voldemort survived only for his craving of dominion and hatred. And was not Love the most powerful of emotions? They would win, they would survive. The darkness would never consume the light. Yet what did he truly fight for? For peace, freedom, love, happiness? For the world as it should be... but had it ever truly been like that? What did he fight for then, for hope? No, he decided. He fought for Life. Clear and simple. Life with it's twists and turns. A Life like a sunny garden with a stony path, in which some encountered small stones and others passed smoothly, where flowers flanked either side and though all observed the flowers some got pricked by thorns and others did not; but all were in the light. Without fear of a monster springing from the bushes and attacking them, where the sweet smell of roses swelled their hearts and the sound of twittering birds made their eyes glow. And not a Life lead blindfold by Evil, stumbling barefoot on a path of jagged stones while fire licked their sides and lashes hit their backs as demons pulled them foward by a cord on their necks, choking them as the fumes of hatred lit their eyes with madness, and the screams of agony tore from their lips and roared in their ears ceaselessly, all the time walking towards and endless abyss of darkness. He was fighting. He would fight until he achieved his wish or was carried away by a monster and thrown into the pit. But he would fight and, hopefully win.

Snape felt tears slipping down his face and into Dumbledore's white beard, and felt as though he were being bled. His heart had been cut open and he was bleeding slowly. But the worst part was that he was bleeding to Life and not to Death as he had wished. He had to live for Dumbledore. But did he truly want to? A small piece of his heart was doubting. Wondering if it were possible to truly discover happiness...if the old man with his love might bring the peace of mind he desired, the peace and contentment of soul he had deemed only possible through death. He clung to Dumbledore's robes unconciously as he held onto the ledge. He felt as though he were hanging on the ledge of an abyss, his hands were bleeding as the rock cut into his hands, and he questioned himself it perhaps falling would be better than the perpetual pain. But there was something new there, somehow water was trickling to hisdry lips and the clouds were breaking to reveal an azure sky. The rock seemed to smoothen though his hands still bled and stung and his arms ached and he was weighed down by weariness. He felt the embrace tighten, and it seemed to him that a lemon-smelling breeze passed around him. He still longed to let go...he was exhausted. But he clung on, and as Dumbledore held him it was as though he were sustaining him and letting him rest. Giving him strength to climb up, and he knew there would be a branch of smooth bark ready to help him up when he regained his energy.

Albus stroked the raven hair lovingly and noticed suddenly that Snape had either fallen asleep or fainted. Carefully he lay him back down against the pillow and saw Snape's hands still grabbing his robes hard, gently prised his fingers apart and placed the bony young man's hands on the bed. He gazed at him with concern, registering once more his extreme paleness and thinness. A few nights with Dreamless Sleep potion had done him good, but dark smudges under his eyes still signalled exhaustion. Yet it was difficult to think about his precarious health situation when so worried with his mental state. After all, for a real recovery the mind must be the first to heal in order for the body to follow in the healing.

With a last caress to his child he conjured an armchair and sitting down comfortably, passed the night gazing upon Severus as the shadows darkened around him and the moon appeared glimmering to substitute the sun, while he was lost in his thoughts.


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: As usual

Note: Here it is at last, the final chapter! I will soon be writing more Snape angst (perhaps more centered on his childhood and Hogwarts years...), So keep checking if you wish to read it. Anyways, infinite thanks for all the wonderful reviews, they were truly like sugar to an acid lemonade. Thank you, and for the last time (in this story) enjoy your reading!

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Dumbledore watched silently as Severus slept, the sun beginning to cast it's first rays of golden light inside the Hospital Wing. He noticed with certain contentment that the young man's chest rose steadily with every breath he took, and his heart still beat blood through his veins with force, signalling clearly that life coursed through him yet. And he would live. He wanted to live (or at least, he no longer desired to die) and that was all that mattered. The old man reached out suddenly in a moment of sweet tenderness to caress his child's pale cheek, feeling love like a warm glow inside him. But as his hand descended to rest on the sleeping man, Severus' breath caught in his chest and he flinched instinctively as though expecting a blow. Albus did not remove his hand and was relieved to see that in a few second Snape seemed to relax once more but pity had already risen in him, like a fountain of tarnished silver. Love flared to a roaring fire and even hatred wriggled his way into his heart like a pair of poisonous snakes with sharp fangs, hatred for the man who had thus ruined a child.

Snape awoke with difficulty, though he felt somewhat more rested. Even if his body hurt as though daggers had pricked him all through the night and his bones had been hollowed out leaving him unable to hardly move. He was surprised, however, to feel his chest less heavy than was usual and his heart less aching. As he awoke every morning he felt a sinking sensation in his heart, a bitter dissapointment that he had not died in his sleep; it had been thus for years. But as he opened his eyes that day to reveal Dumbledore's bright silver beard shining in the dawn's light the weight was lessened.

'Good morning my child. How're you feeling?' The Headmaster asked kindly.

'Fine.'

Snape lied, the words escaping his mouth before he could think of a reply. He was so used to pretending he was well, shutting people out and hiding away. So unaccostumed to anyone caring about him that the few times anyone had indeed expressed any concern he had pushed them away. But it was as it should be, for he was not worth anyone's trouble, nor did he desire their pity- and that was all he would achieve if he spoke truthfully.

Dumbledore smiled at him kindly, surpressing a sigh. He knew he was a fool to be so dissapointed, and that Severus' wounds ran too deep to be healed in a day. Years had passed and edged them deeper, long gashes that had broken his soul. Time perhaps and love would unite the pieces once more, but sometimes the live's of men were too short to allow a true healing and but a superficial cure was to be expected. Alas. He patted the bony arm lightly and tried to ignore the stab of pain as Severus winced and pulled his arm away. He noticed with concern however as what little color was left in his pale countenance dissapeared as the young man placed his arm back on the bed and stared mutely at the linen sheets covering him. It seemed he was feeling shame. Great dollops of blood issued on Albus' tender heart, drops of grief and sadness. Severus was feeling shame for a behaviour he had no fault in, for a fear installed in him since his childhood, a paranoic fear and alertness he had been unable to banish as life continued to force this "quality" as necessary to survive. Taking a deep breath to stiffle the tears that threatened to spill he forced himself to continue as calmly as possible.

'So, how do you feel?'

He questioned anew, as though no response had been made. Dumbledore pitied him in all probability, but he also loved him. He had said so last night and he was too noble a wizard to lie. He loved him and cared for him truly. He had to live if only for him, to aid him in saving the world the old man loved so much. He himself could not find caring for the world who had treated him as it had, who had caused him such anguish and isolated him. But in his heart he knew those were but a few individuals, and innocent people who had not fault in his misfortunes or that of any others lived still, people free of guilt who deserved to live in happiness and peace. And if he could contribute to help them by spying- then he must. Severus gasped as acute pain suddenly burst through him, his limbs possessed by an uncontrollable trembling. He bit his lip to stop the cry of pain that wished to escape him, he felt his hands curl attempting pathetically to reduce the pain.

'Actually I a-am not feeling too well.'

He confessed with a tired sneer, before going back to biting his lips to stifle cries of agony his body longed to release. Dumbledore frowned with concern and fought to breath as he wove his hand through Snape's raven hair. They could not lose him now, not now that he had finally dispelled the desire for death and replaced it by a weak longing to live. A trickle of blood ran down Snape's chin as he broke through his lip and his fingers were turned into hideous claws that pierced his own skin, soon to draw blood. Dumbledore hesitated, he was wary of leaving Snape in this position alone but Poppy was in the Great Hall and he would have to go get her himself if she was to come. He rushed from the room as quickly as he could, whispering a 'I'll be back in a minute.' to the patient in distress as he left.

Snape thought he heard one of his fingers crack, but the roaring sound of blood pounding in his head blocked most other sounds out. His head hurt as if it were to burst and his body was being crushed under blocks of heavy stone, wooden spears set alight with burning fire piercing his sides, a rope of ice choking him and poison dissolving his veins.

Madam Pomfrey and the Headmaster were back in a few minutes, followed a short distance behind by Mcgonagall who was forced to rely on her cane. They saw Severus lying on the bed, eyes closed tight in pain, lips parted slightly glistening with blood. The shaking had reduced somewhat as had the pain, but as the party of three advanced they could hear his laboured breathing. Poppy pressed two fingers to his wrist and strained to feel the pulse, at last she noticed the weak fluttering of his pulsating heart. She turned to stare at Dumbledore who was himself shaking slightly with grief and gazing at Severus in horror, his usual calm demenour lost.

'A-albus.'

Snape stuttered weakly a coughing spell overpowering him, blood spilling from his lips. Dumbledore rushed foward to grasp his hand and listen carefully to his words. This could not be happening he thought with confusion.

'I do b-believe I am dying.'

The young man stammered calmly, managing even to smirk at the irony of the situation. 'Incredible how when I wished to d-die I could not and when y-you convinve me to live I am n-not allowed to.'

Dumbledore gazed at Severus, grief etched in every wrinkle of his face and all twinkle gone from his eyes, then cast a desperate glance at Poppy who instantly busied herself in gathering some potions and setting them on a bedside table. She was doubtful of his survival..she had warned Dumbledore that a few cruciatus would kill him and the crisis had appeared in his most vulnerable state. His defences were so low his body would soon give up the struggle and allow himself to be swept away by the wings of Death. But she was not about to let him go without fighting, she was a healer and everything was possible until death itself took hold; but while there was still a heart beating there was hope. She cupped a bottle of potion to his lips and gently coaxed him to drink it, an organ-healing potion followed a heart-strengthening potion and a vitality beberage. Finding the crook of his arm she inserted a needle and set up the feeding system, accompanied by some more healing potion that also started injecting it's way into his veins.

'Severus..'

The old man murmured when all was set up, a last attempt at mantaining him alive. The Potions Master's eyelids fluttered as he struggled to regain conciousness, his left hand kept trembling even though the pain had receded in the rest of his body, leaving but a dull ache.

'I told you I would pull you up if Darkness threatened to engulf you once more, my child.'

Dumbledore whispered with a slight smile of relief, taking a cloth he wiped the blood from his chin and overcome by emotion he pressed his head to Snape's chest, listening with joy at theonce moe steady beating of the heart and the air filling the lungs without difficulty.

'Albus you're hurting him!'

Poppy cried out in alarm and pulled the Headmaster back, who had tears in his eyes and trickling down his cheek. Severus had lost the battle to sleep and was once again in a faint. But his countenance was peaceful and Madam Pomfrey reassured everyone by checking him over and stating the danger had passed and he should be fine in a few weeks.

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Snape led the shaking spoon to his mouth and took a sip of the warm soup, this time accompanied by some chunks of meat and vegetables. Dumbledore watched approvingly, though he was slightly worried at the incessant trembling of the young man's left hand, it seemed the nerves had been affected by the continuos onslaught of Cruciatus. He had not complained, but Albus had caught him staring at his unsteady hand, his eyes full of disgust and sadness. Yet a week had passed and he appeared to have gained some weight and no more crisis had happened as his defences built up.

'Severus...I've been thinking perhaps it would be unadvisable for you to remain in Voldemort's service. You would be safe at Hogwarts.'

Choking on his soup Snape shook his head forcefully, forcing back the nausea that had suddenly assaulted him. The trembling in his hand increased and the spoon fell from his grasp. He was so useless. He felt tears spring to his eyes, how could he help Dumbledore except by remaining as a spy? The security of the school was unreputable and yet adding one more person Voldemort wished to kill to the castle was not exactly advisable.

'Of what use would I be then?' he asked in a deadly whisper,'No, Dumbledore and that is clear. I am a spy and will remain so until death takes me or the Dark Lord'

Dumbledore nodded in defeat, knowing it would be useless to continue further argument and handed the spoon back to Snape who waved it off as his hunger dissipated.

'I don't want you to get hurt again my child.'

The young man lifted his head and stared at the dazzling zaphires, bright pieces of blue sky, spheres of ocean, full of love. Dumbledore locked his gaze with Snape and saw his black eyes were glistening with tears, like the black clouds foreboding a storm. And yet a star shone from behind the darkness, did it not?

'I shall fight Albus. And when I die you shall drink to my memory if it pleases you, though do not expect many to join you.'

'When you die I shall already be dead for I much older than you Severus.'

Snape looked to a side, 'Many die young.'

'But you need not be one of them. Do not say when but_ if_ you die during this war, for nothing is for sure and hope shines brightly wherever we may be.'

'Do you never waver in your determination? Never doubt your own actions and what you fight for? If it is worth it?'

'Of course I do Severus. Doubt is the mind's most deadly enemy...is it not? So many actions are wronged by doubt, opportunities lost and friends rejected by doubt. Incertitude. And when you lose all to that doubt you despair. Despair is like a gaping abyss of darkness and should you fall the bottom will only be madness or death. But that is what our heart is for, to confront doubt and force it away, to kindle the torch of hope if a gust of despair should extinguish it's flame.'

'But when the heart has been broken and nothing remains but sharp shards of glass what protects us from Despair?'

'Few are the ones who have been lost forever. For many have hearts though they remain faithful only to the Darkness. But though your heart be injured Severus it may heal. Love heals the most profound wounds.'

'As it may also infflict them.'

'And heal them anew. You have my love Severus and Minerva, Lupin and Molly care for you too,whatever you may think and others would if you allowed them behind those walls you have built around yourself.'

'Walls will protect from enemies.'

'But it will also impede allies from entering if they do not know the way to the door.'

'You always have a response to everything it seems.'

Dumbledore smiled and sat on the edge of the bed, Snape involuntarily stiffened then relaxed.

'I'm sorry.'

He mumbled as he saw Albus' grimace of pain at his reaction.

'It is not your fault my child. But be sure I would never strike you. And yet it is not surprising you continue flinching to any touch for though you no longer need to contend with your father you still have Voldemort and his followers to take into account.'

Albus leaned foward to envelop the man in a hug, his heart beating so heart with love it felt as though it was going to burst from his chest with a shower of phoenix tears. Severus saw the white beard descending upon him like a mantel of bright stars on the midnight blue robes, and taking a deep breath allowed himself to be embraced. The beating of Dumbledore's heart as he rested on his chest rising in him that peculiar sensation he was still so alien to, stiffled for so long it seemed strange now that he exposed it without restraint. He closed his eyes breathing in the old man's lemony scent and warm cozy robes, arms wrapped about him in a loving hug. Dumbledore smiled to himself as his child leaned into his embrace without flinching or even stiffening, Snape's arms lay on his lap but the Headmaster knew he could expect nothing more. He lifted a hand to caress the rather greasy hair of the young man and was brought another burst of hapiness as Severus seemed to press more tightly to him.

'You are truly the most extraordinary man I have met Albus. The beating of your heart feels to me like the music of my soul, your twinkling eyes the candles that light my path of darkness and your words my only hope.'

'Oh my child. My son in heart and soul. You swell my heart with such powerful love that all other emotions are drowned out, you are to me like the stars that illumine the dark sky, without which the night would be but a blind void.'

Severus felt his eyes closing even as they talked, Sleep lifting him on her wings and taking him to the realm of dreams.

'I am falling as-sleep...'

'Then sleep my child-'

'I am fearful that this is but a- a dream and I am in truth awakening, I am scared of opening my eyes and finding it has been nothing but an illusion.'

'Fear not. For it is real, I will be here when you awaken. But is not life but a dream from which we awaken when we die?' he added thoughtfully.

'Or perhaps death is falling asleep.'

Dumbledore smiled and smoothed a hand down Snape's side, fingers bumping over his still protruding ribs.

'Sleep my child and when you open your eyes once more I shall be here beside you.'

Snape nodded and suddenly reached out his hand to clutch Dumbledore's robes, the closest he could manage to returning the hug. Albus sighed with a bittersweet happiness,

'I love you my child...'

He whispered softly. Severus did not reply for he was already soaring on Sleep's wings but his clutch on the robes tightened. Dumbledore held him between his arms as he slept, both hearts fluttering with love and the torches of Hope alight, dispelling the darkness, if only in their souls.

* * *

What a lousy end... Ah well, it is over. Hope you enjoyed it. Review! -Thanks 


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